
FkrHERLRND 




&'Gj^F\V£F^ A'Pf^htt 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



• ' Shelf. C^3l.. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



OUR FATHERLAND, 



15 Y - 

ELVIRA CARVER, 

ALITIIOU OF "HOW TO TEACTl (J KO(;i{ AIMI Y." 

AND 

MARA L. PRATT, 

AUrilOU Ol- '-AMKIMCAX IllSTOlJY STO!! 1 KS."— " VOL N< J FOLKS' MHUARY OF 
AMKKICAX IirSTOltY." - KTC 



,^^«vOFco 



:^^^; 



VOL. I. 



CGPy RIGHT ^^■ 



"NGTX 



r.OSTON : 
EDUCATIONAL P U P. L I S fl N G ( (J M P A N Y 

1890. 



COPYRIGHT, 1890. 
By educational PUBLISHING COMPANY 
50 Brom FIELD Street, Boston. 



•I 



I NDRX. 



PART 1. 

Pages_ 

The Discovery of America . . 1-52 

The World in the Fifteenth Century 7 

The Hide and Seek Islands. — F. A. Ilnmphreii 9 

Birth and Boyhood of Columbus. — /^r»/H/>/<rf'// 13 

Why Columbus wished t<> find a Shorter Route to India.— 

Humphrey 17 

The Voyage and Discovery.— //M/Hi>/<re// 23 

How the Strange People received the White Men.— K. S. Rroohs 31 

The Indians and their Ways of Living 35 

The Indian Child.— A'. .S'.7??v>oZ-.s' . . • 40 

Tlie Indian Character.— K. S. Jiroohs^ 4« 

The Century of ^Explorations 51 



PART !I 

The Century op" Colonization . 
The English Settlements . 
The Old Thirteen {ro('tn/),— ('}iorle.^ T. 
The French Setthnnents . 
The Spanish Settlements . 



/}n>„U 



PART III 
The Birth of a Nation 

The First Blood of the Re volution . 
The Declaration of Independence . 
Our Flag 



53-63 
.53 
55 
5fi 
59 



INDEX. 



PART IV. 



The Growth of thk Countkv .... 
l*assage down the Ohio. — I unen K. Pfuihling 
The Purchase of Louisiana .... 

The rurchase of ^Florida 

How Texas was Obtained 

Monterey (^Poetry). — Charles Fenno JJoffman 

Buena Vista 

The Purchase of Alaska . . . . 

A Baby in Furs 



Pages. 

70 
70 
79 
80 
82 
85 
87 
80 
1)1 



PART V. 
A Little of the Geography of the XTmtkd Statks 
TTie Size and Population of the C'onntrj' 

The Surface of the United States 

Its Climate 

Its Agricultxiral Products , . 

The Cereals 

Corn o . • . 

The Maize (/'ot/r//).— jr/H. jr. /'o.-?^//'-// . . . . 

Wheat . . • 

" The Bonanza Farm " • . 

Cotton 

The Story of the Cotton Industry 

Travels ot a FlutT of Cotton. — (Hire Thornf MUU-.- . 



itn-i!i8 
*m; 

99 
101 
102 
103 
104 
IOC 
108 
110 
112 
116 
124 
128 



Grazing 

Fisheries 1.33 

< )ld Modes of Conveyance 135 

The First Railroad 138 

American Railroads 146 

The Building of the First Railroad Across th«; Continent . . 148 

Advantages of Railroads. — M/«r// 153 

i)nr Conntvy'sYutiive. — Oiarles Ciirlettiti (^otfi II 157 



INTRODUCTION 



This little book litis l)eeii prepared for the purpose 
of bringing* within the easy eomprehension of the 
boys and girls of our i)ublie schools, something of 
our country's remarkable growth, its developed and 
undevxdoped resources and its superior advantages. 
Should it excite in the young a greater admiration 
and love for their fatherland, the authors' hoi)es will 
have been realized. 




The Woi'ld as Kiiowii to the 
Europeans in ttie Fifteenth Geutuiy 




/-"^ 



OUR FATHERLAND, 



THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA. 



THE WORLD IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 

A few hundivd years ago, the people living in 
Europe knew very little eoneerning the earth exeept 
that part of it Just a1)out them. They were familiar 
with those eoasts of Asia and of Afriea which l)order 
on the Mediterranean Sea, and had learned something 
of the countries of Southern Asia —Persia and India — 
on account of tradii>g with those countries, l)ut they 
had never so nmch as heard of Auierica and were 
entirely ignorant of its strange people. 

That the Europeans ever found out so much 
about the world as they have, is really (pdte wonder- 



8 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



ful, 1)0('<'mso ill the old dnys Www \\riv no steamboats 

riishiHii- over the oceans in 
all direct ions as there are 
to-day, nor steam-cars wliiz- 
ziiiii" about o^•er the land. 

A few sniali sailini>- ves- 
sels, manned hy men who 
knew nothino- of the sea ex- 
cejit that ])art of it lyini»- 
close to the continents, crept 
along the coasts for i)ur- 
poses of trade and of plun- 
der. The sailors believed 
that at a little distance from 
the shores the ocean was 
l)eopled with horrible mon- 
sters, that liiants were some- 
tmies to be found swimmins: 
about in its waters, ready 
with their ureat vnwl hands 
to seize upon and crush in 
their iron grasp the little 
ships that were so bold as to 
dare venture out upon the 
sea. and that islands seen 

at one time often disappeared and could never be 
found again. 




OUK FATIIKKLAND. 



THE HIDE AND SEEK ISLANDS. 

They used to t.'ilk about an island wliicli tlicy 
culled Atlantis. Tlicy said this island lay lar to the 
west, in the Atlantic Ocean. And the truth is, that 
ocean was so named iVom this island. 

Atlantis was said to he a most loxcly island, 
with hiiili mountains, wide riNcrs, and multitudes of 
sin^ini;- ])ii'ds. Flowers lirew everywhere and the 
weather was always fail*. Diamonds and other 
precious <^('ms could l)e i)icke(l up anywhere about the 
island, and Ne})tune, the sea-god, had a most l)eauti- 
ful palace right in the centre of it. liest of all, the 
[)e()ple who lived there were always good and haj)])y. 

l^ut 1 never heard of anyone who ever really 
s(r(r this island. Sometimes, ])eo])le, as they stood on 
the western shores of Kurojx', iJtouijld they saw it. It 
lay along th(^ horizon (juite ])laiidy, they thought. 
I)ut it always went away again. And sometimes the 
sailors thought they saw it too ; l)ut when they turned 
their boats towards it, lo ! it was gone. And this is 
the way it played hide-and-seek, and no))ody ever 
caught it. 

There was a good man who lived a])out a thou- 
sand years before Columbus, a man so good that he was 
called Saint Brandon. He was always doing good 



10 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



to people. And when ho heard about Atlanti.s, he 
wanted to go there and do aood to the ])eople. So he 
sailed with another aood man — Saint Malo. But of 
cour.se he did not find Atlantis, though he found 
another island, whieh was ever after called by hi.s name 
— the island of Saint Brandon. 




ANCIENT SHIPS. 



But the droll thing is that nol)ody could ever after 
find that island of Saint l>randon again. A great 
many people have tried to find it. Even as late as 
1721 a ship sailed from the Island of Teneriffe in 



OUR FATHERLAND. 11 

search of it. For the people of the Canary Ishmds 
faneied they saw it, sometimes, about a Imndred miles 
to the west. And it is said that even to this day, they 
sometimes think they see its mountain-tops ahove the 
Atlantic waves. And this is the second Ilide-and-Seek 
Island. 

But I thiidv the most charmina' of all the stories 
about the Hide-and-Seek islands is that about Bimini. 
It was said that on this island there was a Fountain of 
Youth. It was said that if one were old, with gray 
hair and wrinkles, and faltering step, half l)lind and 
deaf, as the old often are — if such an one were dipped 
in the Avaters of this fountain he would be young once 
more, with bright eyes, and rosy cheeks, and dancing- 
feet. Ah ! that was something worth looking for. 

You must rememl)er that at that time no one 
knew the real shape of the earth ; they had no idea 
that it was round, but supi)Osed it to be a flat plane, 
with the ocean hino- around its edires. AVliat stranofe 
things might l)e found on the other side of the ocean 
they did not know. 

Can't you see just how the little children, in those 
early days, would go down to the shores, and look 
off across the blue waters, wondering, wondering 
in their childish way, just as their fathers wondered in 
their way, what lands and what people there might l)e 
so far out across the ocean, beyond that land of hazy 



12 OUPv FATHERLAND. 

light where the .sky seems to dip down and meet the 
waters? They had heard sueh strange, strange stories 
of giants and fierce monsters living out there in those 
waters ! And still no one could tell how much of all 
these stories was false and how nuich was true. 

No one could believe that there really was land 
out there so far away ; and if there were i)eoi)le there, 
men and women and little children, how ever did they 
get there, was the question that seemed to puzzle all. 
It was all a great wonder to them — as great a 
wonder as is the deep blue sky to us. 

But here and there some sailor would come 
forward and say, ''I l)elieve there is land far out 
beyond that l)elt of hazy light."' Such men, however, 
wxre laughed at, you may l^e sure, and their plans 
sneered at as something too stupid to be listened 
to by sensible 2)eople. 




OUR FATHERLAND. 13 



BIRTH AND BOYHOOD OF COLUMBUS. 

About tlie year 14o5, a little ))oy was ])oiti in the 
city of Genoa, in Italy. Genoa is a lovely city, a 
city of palaces. Behind it are hii>li, moged moun- 
tains, and in front of it, lying at its feet, is the l)lue, 
tideless ^Mediterranean Sea. Its streets are narrow 
and steep. 

In 14P>5, when this little ])oy was l)()rn, Genoa 
was not only a lovely city, l)ut a very rich one. 
It had a great many shii)s, which sailed to all parts of 
the world ; that is, to all parts of the world that the 
Genoese knew anything about. For America was 
then unknown to the people of Euroi)e. They did 
not know that across the Atlantic lay this l)ig continent 
of ours. They knew something a])()ut Asia and the 
East Indies. They traded with the East Indies. 
But they brought all their silks, and their spices, and 
other precious things by way of the Gulf of Persia 
and various rivers, to the Mediterranean Sea. They 
did not know there was an easier way to get there, — 
by sailing around the Cape of Good Hope, at the south- 
ern point of Africa. 

They did not dare to sail very far south. They 
noticed that it grew warmer as they sailed south, and 
they thought if they kept on that, by and l)y, they 



14 OUR FATHERLAND. 

would come to where the waters of the ocean 
would boil ! 

But as T said, Genoa was then a very rich and 
lovely city, and there this little hoy was born. His 
name was Christofo Colombo. That is his Italian 
name ; but we know him as Christopher Columljus, the 
great discoverer of America. 

Yes, the great Columl)us was once a wee ])al)y 
just as we all have been, and, I have no dou])t, cried 
just as all l)alnes do, and ate and slept, and cooed, and 
kicked, till, hy and by, he grew into a lug l)oy of six. 
Though the parents of Columbus were poor, they 
managed to give him a good education. He was 
taught to read and write, and he wrote such a good 
hand, Las Casas tells us, that he might have earned 
his ])read ])y Avriting. Las Casas was a historian who 
knew all a])()ul that, for he owned some of Columbus' 
manuscripts. 

He was also taught arithmetic, drawing and 
designing, and, in course of time, grammar and Latin. 
But the study he seemed to enjoy most was geography, 
and he had a great desire to go to sea. So his wise 
father concluded that if his little son wished to follow 
a maritime life, — that is, to go to sea, for the purpose 
of trade or of discovery, he must be properly fitted 
for it, and he sent him to the famous University of 
Pa via, in Lombardy. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



15 



We do not know exactly how old Columbus 
was when he came l)ack from Pavia to his father's 
house in Genoa. But he must still have been very 
young, as, according to his own account, he was only 
fourteen when he entered upon his maritime life. 




[Jzach Sfuare is 160 miies] 



[Latitude and Longitude marktd in border.'] 

MAP OF ITALY. 



We can easily imagine that this wide-awake, earnest 
boy spent a good deal of time at the busy wharves 
in Genoa, watching the coming and going of the 
richly-ladened, queer vessels of those days, and talking 



16 OUR PATEIRnLANl). 

witli the sailcn-s about the unknown and distant coun- 
tries he so nuK'li wished to see. For wharves are 
very faseinatiuii" places to most boys, and certainly 
must have been to one so fond oi' iieoi»Tanhv as 
Columbus was. 

In 1470 C\)lumbus went to Lisl)on, the capital of 
Portugal. 

lie was then thirty-iive, but his hair was already 
white with care and troul)le. He was a tall and diu- 
nitied man, courteous to every one, and especially 
gentle and kind in his own household. He is said to 
have had a (juick temper, but he early h>arned to con- 
trol that ([uick tem}Hn". 

He married and settled in Lisl)on. The father 
of his wife had been a distin<iiiished navigator, and 
all his pajuM's, — his rharts and the journals of his 
voyages — were given t(^ Columbus. 

The more C\)luml)us read and studied, the more he 
became convinceil that the earth was round, and that 
by sailing west across the Atlantic, he would come to 
the eastern shores of Asia and so tind an easier way of 
reaching India. He had no idea that the ocean was 
so large as it is, and of course did not dream that there 
was a great continent like Anu'iita lying between it 
and Asia. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



17 




WHY COLUMBUS WISHED TO FIND A SHORTER 
ROUTE TO INDIA. 

India, at this timo in the 
liistory of Europe, was m 
country oi' urcat impor- 
tanc'o in the eyes of the 
niorchants. All the rare 
and iH'autiful thinas were 
brought from thence — silks, o-old, pearls, ivory, 
diamonds and rare woods. 

The merchants were continually passing, with their 
long caravans of horses and camels, across the great 
deserts, through the rough mountain })asse8, over 
the great wide plains, to and fro between the Euro- 
pean countries and this great storehouse of wealth, — 
India. 

You see at once that this manner of carrying on 
trade must Inne been very tiresome, as well as dan- 
gerous and expensive. There were the fearful sand- 
storms of the desert, which always brought such suf- 
fering both to the merchants and to their horses and 
camels ; then there were the dangerous mountain 
gorges, always so full ol'jxM'il ; and the horcU's of rob- 
bers ready always to seize upon any richly-laden cara- 
van. 



IS 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



Those inoivhants, travollinu' so slowly alono- the 
gToat })laiiis, ouided only hy tho sun and by the stars, 
were glad indeed, for the sake of eoni})any as well as 
for safety, to join earavans Avith other nierehants ; and 
so, had you seen one of the nierehant eonipanies in 
those times, you would have found all sorts of people 




A CAUAVAX. 

— Jews, Aral)s, Spaniards — travelling' along too-other, 
beguiling the time with wonderful stories eaeh of his 
own eountry, exehanging jewels and tine eloths, build- 
ing their great eami)-lires, and pitehing their hundreds 
of little tents close toiietlun-. 



On 



aee 



ount of the intense heat in these burninof 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



19 



deserts of sand, the cjiravans travelled but little by 
day. It was at night that the journey in<^ was done. 
When the sun had gone down out of sight, a trumpet 
sounded to tell the servants to be ready to travel. 



,^^^^^r 




HKAD OF AKAHIAN 0\MEL. 



Then the tents were folded, the camels loaded with 
merchandise, the travellers mounted on the horses — 
and the caravan would wind slowly across the desert, 
halting and spreading out the gi'eat tents when the 
sun's rays again poured down its heat upon them. 
Travellinii; in this slow manner nuist indeed have 



20 OUR FATHERLAND. 

cost a oToat amount of time, and la1)or, and provisions ; 
and it is no wonder the merchants ardently desired 
to iind a shorter way to India. It was with this in 
view that Columbus was so eaoer to hnd if the earth 
were really round. If it were, then of course, mer- 
chants would have only to sail straight out from the 
shores of Europe, across the Avater to the opposite 
shores of India. Little did he think what a great con- 
tinent lay in the path between these opposite shores. 

The longer Columbus thought about it, the longer 
he consulted his maps and the stars, the more con- 
vinced he grew that the earth must l)e round. Then 
he determined to go out for himself to find this oppo- 
site shore of the great ocean. 

It would take a whole book of this size to tell 
you of the years he waited, the disappointments and 
defeats he passed through, in his attempts to find any- 
one who had faith enough in him to give him ships and 
a crew an ith Avhich to set forth. 

"The man is a fool!" said the })eople. "Why, 
if the earth were round, then the people on the 
other side would l)e walking with their feet up and 
their heads down , like flies on a ceiling ! " 

"Let Columbus, the insane philosopher, take a 
vessel and sail away l)y himself; the country Avould 
be well rid of him," said others, laughing; "and 
when his vessel begins to sail down the side of the 




QUEEN ISABELLA AND PAGE. 



21 



22 OUR FATHERLAND. 

great round earth that he tells us about, perhaps he 
will discover an India that he has not dreamed of." 

Columbus asked first for help from the govern- 
ment of his own city of Genoa, in Italy. " Who is 
this man that comes to us for aid ? " asked the chief 
magistrate of the city. "It is Christopher Columbus, 
the son of a simi)le Avool-comber," answered his 
officers. 

"A son of a Avool-comber appealing to the city of 
Genoa for ships ! " cried the magistrate. " How dare 
he ! Let him be dismissed at once." 

Then Columbus a|)i)ealed to the King of Por- 
tugal ; but the King of Portugal only listened to his 
plans, looked at his maps, and tried to steal his knowl- 
edge to use, by and by, for himself. 

After ten long years of waiting and working, after 
ten long years of bitter disai)pointment and cruel 
ridicule, the longed-for aid was given him. "I will 
aid him," cried lsal)ella, Queen of Spain, deeply 
moved by his story, "I Avill aid him if I sell my royal 
jewels to raise the gold with Avhich to build his ships ! " 

When Queen Isabella made up her mind, it was 
made up in earnest. Promptly she summoned her 
advisers and told them what she was resolved to 
do. And in a short time Columbus was really out 
upon the great ocean, bent upon his long-dreamed-of 
voyage around the world. 




THE VOYAGE AND THE DISCOVERY. 

Tht' port of Palos in .Viidaliisui was the j)hice 
fixed upon from which to tit out tlie vessels. There 
were three ; the J^^iiia, the Pinfa and the Santa Maria. 
Two of these were small, (jf a kind called caravels. 
They were not decked over, hut were Iniilt hiah at 
either end, with caluns that looked like houses or 
castles. 

At first, Columbus could not act even these three 
small vessels. The kina and (juccn had ordered 
the town of Palos to furnish two of tlicsc \-essels. 
But it refused. Xol^od}' Avas willjnii: t(j risk a acsscI, 
and nobody Avas Avilling to go on sucli a voyage. l>ut 
the sovereigns issued a second order to have shi})s 
seized, and masters and crews forced to serve. 

Then arose a great hue and cry in Palos. The 
most dreadful stories were told about those unknown 

seas and lands whither they Avere to sail. The people 

23 



24 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



of Palos W(Mit tVoin lM)iisi' to house nnd lalkccl iihoiit 
it just as })(H)|)li' now talkahout things. 

" ()," said \\w NvouuMi, "it" our husl)an(ls and 
sons go thoy will never come hack. 'I'hey will he 
swallowed u}) hy the learl'ul wa\es, or hy creatures 




AN OLD 8UU* or TllK EAULY DISCOVKUKKS. 

nu)re cruel than the wav(\s." So, yon may se(\ there 
was a i:reat outcry ahout tlu» ^•oyai:•e in Palos. 

One naN iuator, how(>M'r, ^vho li\ed in Talos, 
Alonzo Pinzon, a man of courai:(\ said lu* was r(\adv 
to ii'o, and to risk hoih himstdf and his money, lie 



OUR FATIIKKLAND. 2.^) 

Ihoiriilit (!()linn])us would coinc out jiII riiilil, mikI 
would lind IIk^ couuliy lie wus lioinii- 1o seek. So he. 
{ind liis broilicr iuruislicd one xcsscl and pari oT the 
rest. The H((nf((, Mftrio, llic lariicsl vessel, and the 
only one decked, was the llaii-shij), and (\)luinl)us 
himself was its ('aj)tain. 

(\)luinl)us w^as Hf'ty-si\ years oi' au'e when lie 
set sail fVoni Palos with the Piiifa, the Nina, and the 
H(nU(( Maria. They sailed August, 141)2, and the 
mothers, the wives and children ol'the men went down 
to the wharves to hid them " i/ood-hy " Nvith many tears, 
for they ncA'er exjx'cted to see them retni'ii. 

On and on the three shi[)s sailed, until they came 
within the inlluence of what are called "Tiade 
Winds." The soft air and the heaidiful skies made 
them thiids of their heloN'cd Andalusia. They hejian 
to see patches of weeds, such as i:row in rivers, u^^i-eeii, 
too, as if it had not heen lonii' since they wei-e washed 
down into the ocean. A ])i-etty white tro))ical hird 
eam(5 to ii'reet them. 

'I'he crew watched eaiici'ly for land. Ferdinaiid 
and Isabella had ])romised to the man who lii'st dis- 
covered it, a ])ension of thirty crowns. On the isth 
Alonzo Pin/on thought he saw land at the noith, hut 
it proved to he foi:' on the horizon. 

The sailors hciian to urow^ uneasy. 'I'he favor- 
uble wind that had burner them so far toward the 



26 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



west, they began to fear would not allow them to re- 
turn again. On the 20th, however, a contrary breeze 
sprung up, and they felt l^etter. That day birds flew 
about the vessel, such as live only in groves and 




LOOKING FOR LAND. 



orchards. They came singing in the morning tmd 
went away at night. 

Next there came a calm, and the ocean was 
covered with weeds as far as the eye could reach. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 27 

The men were frightened again. They thought they 
were coming upon sunken land, where the' vessels 
would get aground, and would never be got oft' again, 
and they would have to stay there and die. 

The calm was l)roken l)y a great swell of the 
ocean, and then they felt ])etter again. At last, how- 
ever, they ])egan to talk seriously of a nuitiny against 
Columl)us. "He was a madman," they said. Some of 
them even i)ro[)osed to throw him into the sea and 
then return to Si)ain, and tell the king and queen 
that he had tumbled overboard Avhile gazing at the 
stars ! 

Colum])us knew what was going on, l)ut he si)oke 
soothingly to the men, and i)roniised a dou1)let of 
velvet in addition to the thirty crowns to whoever 
should first see land. 

Octol)er seventh, Columbus changed his course. 
Up to that time he had sailed directly west. But he 
had noticed ftocks of birds coniini!: from and ij^ointr 
back to the southwest. He determined to follow in 
the track of those birds. On the evenino- of October 
eleventh he went up on toj) of the cabin to watch for 
land. There had l)een mau}^ signs of land that day — 
a I) ranch of thorn with l)erries on it, a piece of a tree, 
a carved staft\ How eager, how anxious, how full of 
hope was Columbus ! At ten o'clock he saw a light. 
It moved from side to side and up and down. He 




LA^Dl^^; of coLinrBU 



OUR FATHERLAND. '29 

railed to two of his men to come up Jind look. 
They, too, saw the liiiht. At two oV-loek in the morn- 
iiiii", a iiun from the Pinta gave the welcome signal of 
land, and they took in sail and lay to, waiting for 
daylio-ht. 

You may be sure that, at the first dawn of day, 
Columbus, and his officers and crew were on deck 
for a look at the new-found land. And a beautiful 
land it was, a green and level island, covered Avitli 
trees like an orchard or park. The date of its discov- 
ery was October 12, 1492. 

There were people on the island, a dusky people 
unlike any the Spaniards had ever seen. As soon as 
Columbus landed he knelt, kissed the ground, and 
gave thanks to God for his success. The rest knelt 
around him. 

Then he arose to his feet, drew his sword, and took 
possession of the island in the name of the S})anish 
sovereigns. He named this island San Salvador. 

The natives watched these proceedings with curi- 
osity. Early in the morning they had seen with fear 
these monsters — for such they called the vessels 
— hovering on their huge white wings a1)()ut their 
island. They crowded down to the shore to get a 
nearer view. But, when they saw the 1)()ats filled with 
strange beings drawing near, they tied in terror to the 
woods. 



30 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



When they found, however, that these strange 
beings did not follow them, but went quietly about 
their own business, they took courage, and came out 
from their hiding-places ; and in a few days, so conli- 




TUE NATITES 8WTM OUT AND BRING GIFTS. 

dent did they become, they even paddled out in their 
little birch canoes, or more often still, they swam out 
laden with presents for the strange men in the great 
white ships. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 31 



HOW THIS STRANGE PEOPLE RECEIVED THE 
WHITE MEN. 

80 the white man came. He came with his myste- 
rious shi[)s and his more mysterious implements and 
arms, with his prancing horses, with his greed for 
gold and gain, his determination for dominion, his 
proud and overbearing nature, his manhood-des- 
troying drink, and his love of barter. 

Along the narrow trails that skirted the Atlan- 
tic seal^oard and stretched far away into the back 
country, or over the gleaming water-ways that bore 
the frail canoe, there sped with ever-increasing force 
the startling reports of the coming of the canoes with 
wings, the men with white faces and invulneral)le 
bodies, the strange animals — neither dog nor deer — 
upon which the pale-faced chieftains rode, the black- 
frocked medicine men, the wooden cross, and the 
tul)es that shot out lightning. 

Around the tire-pit in lodge and council house, 
from tril)e to tri])e the marvellous stories ran, the 
strange tidings were told and retold, discussed and 
pondered upon, and the mysterious visitors were 
reckoned as white spirits sent from the far-distant 
shores of Che-1)a-hu-nah, the Land of Souls. 

So, with extravagant demonstrations of welcome, 



32 OUR FATHERLAND. 

with })ieseiits of maize and fish and fruits, and, often, 
with offei'iniis as sacrifices to })lease their strange, 
mysterious visitors, the Indians of the North 
American coast, from Yucatan to Labrador, gave to 
the first of the navigators a cordisil, hearty and 
helpful welcome. There does not appear a single 
exception to this generous Indian hospitality in the 
whole story of early American discovery. 

But this record of friendship was soon to be changed, 
and by the very men who should have preserved 
it. All too speedily the trustful and superstitious 
Indians found these white messengers to l)e but mortal 
men, and very bad ones at that. 

Received as gods, the white men proved to be 
devils; welcomed with overflowing hospitality, they 
repaid it with deceit and theft. In the year 1494, 
Columbus, cruising among the islands of the ^^"est 
India group, sent home to Spain twelve ships laden 
with captive Indians as slaves. 

In 1494 young Sebastian Ca])ot, with two ship- 
loads of English convicts, skirted the North American 
coast from Newfoundland south to New York harbor 
and Cape Hatteras. The expedition proved a failure, 
and, lacking in l)otli sailors and provisions, it turned 
toward England, carrying nothing homeward but the 
memory of hardships and a number of kidnapped 
Indians, stolen for slaves. 

In 1500 a Spaniard, sailing along seven hundred 



OUK FATHERLAND. 33 

miles of the northeasterly American coast, found the 
people "Avell made, intelliirent and modest," living 
in Avooden houses and "admiral)ly calculated for 
la1)oi'." He kidnapped hfty-seven of these hospitable 
natives for slaves, and the name of that northerly 
coast is to-day a lasting monument of the white man's 
treachery — Terra de Labrador, the "land of labor- 
ers." 

And thus, in almost every year succeeding the 
days of these hrst navigators, an as their evil ex- 
am})le followed. The European adventurers sought 
with never- flagging zeal the coasts of the Southern 
United States, of Mexico, Central America and the 
islands of the Spanish Main, impelled by two desires — 
the discoA^ery of gold and the capture of Indians for 
sla\^es. Wherever ah)ng those tro})ic shores an Indian 
tribe Avas found or an Indian lodge looked out toAvard 
the sea, came, with l)lood-hound and with lash, Avith 
gun and spear, the pitiless man-hunters. 

Within less than twenty years after the lirst landing 
of Columbus, the islands comprising the AA^est India 
grou[) Avere almost depopulated of their native in- 
habitants. 

Even the most trusting native, Avill, through ill- 
usage and bad-faith, groAV suspicious and re Avengeful. 
The southern Indians, Avhom the Spaniards thus fool- 
ishly dltreated, nuich more gentle than their breth- 



34 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



ren of the North, tiivnod at last upon their tormenters. 
"Where once the Indians were like shee[),*' wrote Bal- 
boa, " they have now l)eeoine like tieree lions, and 
have acquired so nnu'h darino-, that where formerly they 
were accustomed to come out to the paths with pres- 
ents to the Christians, now they come out and kill 
them ; and this has been on account of the l)ad thinos 
which the captains who went into their country 
have done to tliem." 




OUK FATHERLAND. 



3;') 



THE INDIANS AND THEIR WAYS OF LIVING. 








J^ m 



^ The iirsi discovcrors 
l)('li('viii,<i' llic 1:111(1 In 
])o Iiidin, cMllcd 1Ih's<' 
n:iti\'(' Anicric.'iiis " Ind- 
i:nis."* Mild tlic iiaiiH' l):i,s 

since IxM'll Mppl'KMl 1() 

lliciii more tliaii lo the 
East India Irilx's. Tlicy wen' also 
ji| called " red men " tVoni llieir i"ed- 
disli-browii color, in distinction 
fi-oni the whites oi- " pah'-faccs," as tlie 
^i Indians calh'd tlie Kuroix'ans. 

^-^ 'Hiese s;ivaii-es had no inainifacturcs ; 

cultivated only a few ])atches of maize, or Indian 
corn ; wore skins for clotliini»-, and sliocs or moc- 
casins of soft buckskin. Tlicy soon henan to trade 
with the earlv settlers for blankets, beads, etc. ; 



36 OUR FATHERLAND. 

and henceforth the Indian costume, whicli has 
become traditional, consisted of a blanket wrapped 
ubout the body, moccasins embroidered with many 
colored beads, and ornaments of feathers, frino-os, 
jind 1)eads for both arms and leos. The straight, 
coarse, black hair of the men was closely shaved, 
except one lock on the top of the head, left as 
a point of honor, for the convenience of scalping, or 
cutting off the scalp from the top of the head, ini^^ar- 
fare. This lock was usually tied up with a bunch of 
feathers. The women wore their hair hanging loose 
over the shcndders or braided with various ornaments ; 
and, instead of a blanket, sometimes wore a dark pet- 
ticoat adorned with beads or fringes. 

The Indian dwellings were small, i)ointed huts, or 
wigwams, made tent-like, of bark or mats stretched 
over branches of trees stuck in the ground. As with 
all savages, the women were drudges ; they hoed the 
corn and carried burdens ; the only occupations of the 
men were hunting and warfare. The killing of the 
first deer was an event to the Indian youth, and he 
impatiently awaited the first war-path and the first 
scalp, which would confirm him in the dignity of man- 
hood, and entitle him to a place among the w^arriors. 

A chief w^as honored according to his age and 
experience, and the nund)er of scalps boastfully hang- 
ing at his belt, or upon the pole of his wigwam. The 



OUR FATHERLAND. 37 

weapons of the Indiaii.s were ])ow8 and arrows, headed 
with flint or stone points, routrhly ehi})ped out for the 
purpose; and tlie toniahjiwk, or hatehet of stone, 
whieh was hurled a\ ith i>'reat skill at the head of 
a foe. Those tribes whieh eanie in eontaet with the 
pAiroj)eans soon ol)tained firearms, andiron tomahawks 
instead of those they had rud(dy hewn out of stone. 
They never attaeked their enemies in large numbers, 
but, dis[)ersinu- throuah the woods, shot from behind 
trees or l)ushes, often ereeping stealthily into the very 
eamp of the enemy. When on a war-i)ath they usu- 
ally painted their skins in various eolors and devices, 
and warriors of different tribes Avere known by the 
fashion of their paint, as more civilized soldiers are 
by their uniforms. 

Forest life irave these peoi)le keen sight and hearing, 
(juick perception, and ;», soft, sure step; and with 
unerring certainty, they followed the faintest trail 
of friend or foe for hundreds of miles through the 
})athless woods. They were taught from infancy to 
endure i)ain without a murnuir, to sui)press all signs 
of emotion, and to suffer torture without movinir a 

o 

muscle of the face. To show no surprise, to be 
perfectly calm in joy or sorrow, was to support 
worthily the dignity of an Indian warrior. 

These savages, though ignorant, cruel, and treacher- 
ous, were remarkable for a peculiar dignity and 



38 OUR FATHERLAND. 

courtesy of manner, and were highly poetic in their 
language and perceptions. They often used pleasing 
or striking conii)arisons, and names were given from 
some cons})icuous qualit}^ or some fancied resem- 
blanc(}, as Hawkeye, Great Serpent, Drooping Lily, 
Laughing Water. They believed in a Great 8i)irit, 
who was pleased when they did right, and displeased 
when they did wrong; and in a "happy hunting 
ground '" hereafter, where brave warriors ^vould l^e 
received after death. 

Such Avere the people inha])iting the continent 
wdien the Europeans arrived. At first they seemed 
inclined to be friendly with the whites, and often 
supplied them with corn ; Imt, again and again, they 
suffered injustice or abuse from rude, reckless ad- 
venturers belonging to the settlements, and, as it was 
not in their nature to forget or forgive an injury, they 
retaliated. Here one man was killed by them, and 
there another ; exploring parties were taken prisoners ; 
women and children were massacred in the colonies ; 
and at last there was almost constant enmity between 
the races. The colonists ploughed their fields and 
planted their grain with muskets l)y their side, while 
guards were anxiously on the watch for the crafty 
foe. In spite of all precautions, a bullet might at 
any moment whistle l)y their heads, or the eye of a 
savage glare upon them from the nearest thicket. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 39 

The mother, rocking her child by the fireside, looked 
up to find 11 i)ainted wurrior with uplifted tomahawk in 
the doorway ; and the inhalntants of many a burning 
village were scalped as they fied at midnight from the 
fianies. 

As the colonies prospered, more white men came 
from the Old World, sometimes l)uying land from the 
Indians, sometimes taking it as their right ; and, as 
the red men saw themselves driven from their huntinir- 
grounds, and their forests cleared hy the axe of the 
"pale face," their fear ;ind dislike grew into bitter 
hatred. Councils of Avar were held, leagues were made 
among the tribes, and the warfare became terrible. 
But resistance was vain ; and weakened by quarrels 
and jealousies among themselves, they decreased 
rapidly in nunil)er. The Pequods, Mohegans, and 
other tribes famous in tlie early liistory of the colonies 
soon perished, and, as the settlers advanced Avest- 
Avard, the natives retreated Ijefore them. 




40 



OUR FATHERLAND. 




THE INDIAN CHILD. 

The Indian l)al)y\s first lesson was one of en- 
durance. Strapped to a flat i)iece of wood, the little 
papoose took his first views of life from this painful 
posture, suspended from a tree or secured to the l)ack 
of his hard-working mother. 

But though endurance was a precept early in- 
stilled, the little red baby was as fondly nursed as the 
petted darling of many a civilized home is to-day. Its 
hard cradle-board Avas made comfortable w^ith softly 
dressed buckskin, or fragrant with abed of sweet grass 
and ribbons of the bark of bass or linden trees. 
The finest bead-work that the mother could make, or 



OUR FATQERLAND. 41 

the most prettily plaited reed-splints and grass that she 
could braid, decorated her baby's bed, and over and 
over again she sang the little one to sleep Avith her 
monotonous but rhythmical lullaby. 

*' Swinging, swinging, 
Lullaby ; 
Sleep, little danghter, sleep. 
'Tis your mother watching by. 
Swinging, swinging, she will keep ; 
Little danghter. 
Lullaby." 

Up to two years of age the Indian ])aby was 
ke})t lashed to the unyielding board, which was alike 
carriaixe and cradle. Once a day its cords Avere 
loosed, and it was allowed to })lay and roll ui)on a 
blanket or the grass. When the mother was ))usy the 
board, baby and all, was hung u])on the most conven- 
ient tree or placed in a corner of the lodge. 

Mr. H. ^Y. Elliott relates that some fifteen or 
twenty^ years ago, being one day near old Fort 
Casper on the River Platte, he paused to kneel and 
drink from a stream he was crossing. "Sud- 
denly," he says, "my attention was arrested by a suc- 
cession of (jueer, cooing, snuffling sounds that caused 
me to peer curiously about in the recesses of the sur- 
rounding birch and poplar thicket. Here I discovered. 



42 OUR FATHERLAND. 

to the right imd just alcove me, five pappooses slung 
to the trees, all alone in their glory, amusing them- 
selves l)y winking and staring at one another, appar- 
ently as happy as clams at high water. But, unfor- 
tunately for their serenity, they caught sight of the 
pale-face, and with one accord, began to howl in dis- 
mal and terrified accents, so that in less than a minute 
six or seven squaws came crashing through the under- 
})rush to the rescue. Ha})py mothers ! It was not as 
they had feared, a bear, and the tempest was quelled 
at once." 

At two years of age, as has been said, the child 
was released from the imprisonment of its uncomfort- 
able cradle and, according as it was boy or girl, its 
real education began. 

Even at this early age the difterence in treat- 
ment accorded the sexes was noticeable. For, follow- 
ing the customs of their race, which regarded the boy 
as the future warrior and the girl as the future drudge, 
all the training of the one and all the duties of the 
other lay in the customary course. 

When she was four or five years old, the Ind- 
ian girl was taught to go for wood, etc. When she 
was abo^it eight years of age she learned how to make 
up a pack and l)egan to carry a small one on her 
back. As she grew older she learned to cut wood, to 
cultivate corn, and other branches of the Indian 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



43 



woman's work. This cducatioii in labor, however, 
seems never to have soured the disposition of the lit- 
tle red-skinned maid, for she maintained the most 
aflectionate reirard for her mother and other kindred. 



< -^r 1 ^ 




INDIAN GIRL. 



From the Indian boy's earliest years, his train- 
ing was such as to tit him for a future warrior. Al- 
though allowed to run wild and to ])e spared anything 
that seemed like lal)or or work, he learned to swim, 
to run, to jump and to wrestle. Some of the southern 
tribes seem to have had a sort of master of gymnastics 
to look after the physical development of their youth. 



44 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



At un early age, too, the boy was put toareheiy jn-ae- 
tice, shooting with ])lunted arrows at a target of hay, 
bunched at the top of a stiek, or at the l)irds tiiat 
swarmed aljout his forest and })rairie home. 



-^V^? ' fi^^ 



<:mi7^ 




^^^^''t— «&n 



THE INDIAN HOME. 



The boys had their ])all games, both "shinny" 
and foot-])all, as Avell as a peculiar game of ])ase-ball ; 
they flew their kites of fish-bladders, spun their tee- 
totums, played at tag and hide-and-seek, l)lind-man's- 
buff and hunt-the-slipper. The girls, though brouglit 
up to work long and hard, while the boys were free to 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



45 



p:o and come as they chose, still enjoyed their dolls in 
such leisure hours as they had, and though girls and 
boys rarely played together, hoth ^oxc^ were just as 
fond of making mud-pies as are the little folks of 
our day. 

One word indeed in the Omaha dialect comes from 
this childish disp:)sition to play in the mud. It is the 
verb tigaxe, meaning to make dirt lodges, and having, 
hence, the ])roader signiticanee to play games. 

When the boy was about seven years old his 
first fast was imposed — an all day's watch u})()n some 
higli or exposed point; here, smeared Avith white clay, 
he ke[)t, like the boyish s'piires of the knightly days, 
a sort of vigil, tilled with continual calls u})()n his 
selected manitou to muke him a great man — a war- 
rior. These fasts iiici-(\'ised in lengtii and intensity 
uitli tlie lad's years until the age of tifteen or sixteen, 
when, after a live days' fast, the troubled dreams of 
hunger would reveal to him some bird, 1)east or rep- 
tile which was to be esteemed his " medicine " — his 
mysterious protector through life. 



46 OUR FATHERLAND. 



THE INDIAN CHARACTER. 

The following stories tell us soinethino; of the 
character of the Indian before he was debased ])v the 
white man's vices, weakened ])y his rum, and made 
hostile by his treachery. 

In one of the numerous inter-tribal wars of the 
seventeenth century, the little son of a famous Ojibway 
chief was surprised and captured by the Foxes, not 
far from the site of the modern city of Duluth. The 
news of the disaster reached the father, who knew at 
once what fate was in store for his boy. .Vt once and 
alone he followed the trail of the \ict()rious Foxes, 
and reached their village as the fatal tire was being 
kindled. AA'ithout hesitation the old chief walked 
boldly to the i)lace of sacriHce. '* My little son, 
whom you are abont to ))ui'n with tire,"' he said to the 
hostile warriors who knew him only too well, "has 
seen but few winters ; his tender feet have never 
trodden the war-path. He has never injured you. 
But the hairs of my head are white with many winters, 
and over the graves of my relatives I have hung many 
scali)s, which I have taken from the heads of the 
Foxes. My death is worth something to you. Let 
me therefore take the place of my child, that he may 



OUR FATHERLAND. 47 

return to his people." The offered substitution was 
jiccepted. The boy was carried back to his tribe, and 
the loving father, without a groan, met his death amid 
the fao'ots which had been set aliiiht for his son. 

The Iroquois traditions tell of a Seneca lad, 
who, while but a little fellow, was taken captive by the 
Illinois. The boy knew what to expect, but ])raced 
himself to meet his fiite and prove the value of his Sen- 
eca blood. '' If he can live through our tortures," 
said the Illinois chief, "he shall ])ec()me an Illinois." 

They held him barefoot upon the coals of the 
council tire, until his feet werc^ a mass of blisters. 
Then, with tish-bone needles, they pierced the blisters, 
tilled them with sharp flint stones, and bade the little 
fellow run the gauntlet for twenty yards, between two 
rows of warriors armed with thorn-])rier branches. 

"His agony was intense," says the story, "but 
up in his heart rose the memory of his tribe." He 
ran the fearful race and, passing the goal, darted into 
the "Long House," and paused not until he sank 
almost fainting upon the place of honor — the wild-cat 
skin that marked the seat of the chief. 

" Good ! " cried the Illinois ; " he has the stuff for 
a warrior in him." 

Again they bound him to the stake, tortured 
him with tire, and then, cutting his thongs, put him 
to the final test by holding him beneath the cold water 



48 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



of the drinking spring, again and again, until he was 
well nigh strangled. And still neither complaint nor 
moan came from the l)rave-hearted lad. 

But when the test was complete, the watching 
warriors gave a shout of approval. 

'' He will make a warrior," they cried. " Hence- 
forth he shall be an Illinois." 







INDIAN MEDICINE MAN. 



Then they adopted him into their tribe ; they 
re-named him Ga-geh-djo-na, and raised him up to be a 
chief. " And as the years passed on," says the story, 
' he was nmch esteemed for his feats as a hunter, and 
his strength and endurance were by-words among the 
Illinois." 



OUR FATHERLAND. 49 

In one of the pitiless massacres by which the 
Pequot Indians were reduced to submission by our 
"heroic ancestors" a certain portion of them in a lofty 
contempt of death were, says the old record, "killed 
in the swamp like sullen dogs who would rather, in 
their self-willedness and madness, sit still and be shot 
through or cut to i)ieces, than to beg for mercy." A 
writer of seventy years ago, commenting on this scrap 
of history, says : " When the Goths laid waste the city 
of Rome, they found the no]:)les clothed in their robes 
and seated with stern tranquillity in their curule 
chairs ; in this manner they suffered death without an 
attempt at supplication or resistance. Such conduct 
in them was applauded as no))le and magnanimous ; 
in the hapless Indian it was reviled as o])stinate and 
sullen." 

"The red men knew nothing of trouble," said the 
Seneca, connnonly called Red Jacket, in one of those 
masterly speeches that showed him to ])e at once an ora- 
tor and a philosopher, " until it came from the white 
man. As soon as they crossed the great waters they 
wanted our country, and in return have always been 
ready to teach us how to quarrel about their religion. 
The things they tell us we do not understand, and the 
light they give us makes the straight and plain path 
trod by our fathers dark and dreary." 

"It is of the old times I am speaking to thee," 



50 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



an old Ojibwiiy woman explained to Johann 
Kohl, the German traveller and explorer, "the 
very, very old, when there were no white men 
at all in the country. Then the Indians were much 
l^etter than at this hour. They were healthier and 
stronger. They lived long and became very old. 
They could all fast much longer. Hence they had 
better dreams. They dreamed of none but good and 
excellent things, of hero deeds and the chase, of bears 
and stags and caribous, and other great and grand 
huntino' animals ; and when he dreamed, the Indian 
knew exactly where those animals could ])e found. 
He made no mistake. . . . But now," she added 
sadly, "their strength is broken and they have lost 
their memory. Their tribes have melted away, their 
chiefs have no voice in the council. Their wise men 
and priests have no longer good dreams, and the old 
squaws forget their good stories and fables." 




OUR FATHERLAND. 51 



THE CENTURY OF EXPLORATIONS. 

Wlion these first ex[)l()i'ers returned to Kui'ope with 
their wonderful stories of discovery, and of the abun- 
dance of gold and sih^er believed to be hidden awa}' 
in the new land, a great excitement spread over the 
countr}'. Sailors were as eager now to l)e sent across 
the ocean as tliey liacl once been afraid ; the merchants 
forgot their sneers, and tried each one to be first to 
send a vessel to the gold-countrv ; and all the people 
united in praises of the wise C()lunil)us, who had found 
the way across the sea, and of the l)rave men who had 
dared to sail away with him. The Spaniards, eager to 
hold their possessions of these new lands and new 
treasures, sent out more expeditions, established col- 
onies in the AVest Indies, guarded tlie harl>ors, ex- 
plored the Gulf of Mexico and tlie C'ari})bean Sea, and 
claimed the whole country as their own. 

The English, the French, the Portuguese, determined 
to have a share in tlu^ great new discovery, began also 
to send out vessels. 

Voyaging on tlu* Atlantic was not then what it is 
now, when the routes have l)een so clearly marked 
out, the courses of the currents understood, and the 
various islands so exactly located. Then, too, the 
vessels of those days were small, and not strongly 



52 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



built ; supplies were scarce ; sailors knew little of 
latitude or longitude or the uses of the compass. One 
after another, the adventurers touched upon the At- 
lantic shores, — now ui)on the bare rocks of Labrador, 
now on the icy banks of the northern seas. ]\Iany 
were the vessels that in these days were lost at sea, 
and many were the brave sailors who, stranded upon 
this unknown shore, perished with hunger and cold. 
From all these causes, colonization of the New AVorld 
progressed very slowly, and a whole century passed by 
before any permanent settlement was made. But the 
way had been opened ; and here and there along the 
coast stood landmarks which, by and by, should mark 
the site for homes of European colonists. 




PART I I. 



THE CENTURY OF COLONIZATION. 



English Settlements. 

Although the close of the sixteenth century found 
only ()!ie settlement within the limits of whiit is now 
(he United States — that at St. Augustine in Florida 
— (luring the seventeenth ccnitury tln^ whole Atlantic 
sea-board, from Canada to Georgia, was settled, 
^lore than this, the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi 
had several fur-trading posts and a few settlements of 
colonists. So that we may truly speak of this century 
as the "century of settlements." 

The })rincii)al colonies were made up of English 
people. There was the one at Jamestown, Virginia, 
settled in 1607, and another at Plymouth, Mass., settled 
in 1620. The Swedes and the Dutch had come in be- 
tween these two colonies, and had taken possession of 

New York, New Jersey, and Delaware. The English 

53 



54 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



king refused t(, allow tliese to take possession of this 
.soil in the name of their country, and so they eanie 
under the oeneral control of Enoland. From this 
time the English held the eoast from C^anada to Flor- 
ida, and, not many years later, settled a colony as far 



south as Georgia. 




The thirteen States, bordering on the Atlantic, be- 
tween Maine and Florida, including also Pennsylvania, 
are the thirteen original colonies of -the United States. 
They are often spoken of now as the " Old Thirteen." 

In the middle of the eighteenth century, we find 
these colonies peopled with industrious, intelligent, 



OUR FATHERLAND. 55 

well-meaning men and women, who have come, not to 
search for gold and silver, but to make for themselves 
homes. The hard days of colonization are over ; the 
suffering, the dangers, the l)ittcr struggles are past, and 
the good peoi)le are rewarded with their pleasant 
homes, their thriving towns, and their rich harvests. 
Trade and commerce arc growing, and altogether the 
colonies are coming to be of no little importance to 
the mother country. 



THE OLD THIRTEEN, 



The curtain rises on a hundred years, — 

A pageant of the olden time appears, 

Let the historic muse her aid supply, 

To note and name each form that passes by. 

Here come the old original Thirteen ! 

Sir Walter ushers in the Virgin (^ueen ; 

Catholic Mary follows her, whose land 

Smiles on soft Chesapeake from either strand ; 

Then Georgia, with the sisters Caroline, — 

One the palmetto wears, and one the pine ; 

Next, she who ascertained the rights of men, 

Not by the sword but by the word of Penn, — 

The friendly language hers, of "thee" and "thou;' 

Then, she w^hose mother was a thrifty vrouw, — 



56 OUR FATHERLAND. 

Mother herself of friendly chikh-eii now ; 

And, sitthig at lier feet, tlie sisters twain, — 

Two smaUer links in the Atlantic chain, 

They, through those loiii;', dark winters, drear and dire, 

Watched with our Fabins round the l/ivonac lire ; 

Comes the free mountain maid, in white and green ; 

One guards the Charter Oak with lofty mien ; 

And lo ! in the plain beauty once she wore, 

The i)ilgrim mother from the Bay State shore ; 

And last, not least, is Little Rhody seen, 

With face turned heavenward, steadfast and serene, — 

She on her anchor, Hope, leans, and will ever lean. 

— Charles Timothy Brooks. 



THE FRENCH SETTLEMENTS. 

The Fi'ciich made tlu'ir lirst })cniiaiu'nt settle- 
ment in Canada, tonndina* Qne])ec in 1()()8, a year 
after the English occupation of Jamestown. A little 
more than a century later than this they made a settle- 
ment at Xew Orleans, near the mouth of the Missis- 
sippi River. 

The great Mississippi River was early discov- 
ered by the Spaniard, De Soto, who found his grave 
in its Avaters, but it Avas not explored until more than 
a century later, and then by the French instead of the 
Spaniards. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



57 




QUEBliC IN 1G08. 



58 OUR FATHERLAND. 

In l()7o Marquette, ii good French missionary, 
laboring among the Indians of Lake Michigan, with a 
Canadian trader made his wmv from the lake to the 
Wisconsin Kiver. Here they launched tlicir little 
boats and })addled down the Mississi])pi, which th(?y 
explored for nearly eleven Imndred mih;s, descending 
almost to the mouth of the Arkansas. Being told that 
the river ])elow was infested by hostile savages, they 
returned to Michigan. 

A few years after this, La Salle, another French 
trader, and a large l>arty of f(dlowers went by way of 
the Illinois Kiver into the Mississip})!, which they ex- 
plored to the Gulf; and setting up the Lilies of 
France, took possession of the vast region through 
which the river Hows, in the; name of their king, Louis 
XIV. 

Later, La Salle went to France and obtained a 
commission to plant a colony in Louisiana, which he 
tried to reach l)y way of the Gulf. He searched long 
and fruitlessly for the i)assage into the river and was 
finally cruelly murdered by his disappoint(Ml men ; ])ut 
ten years later in I7()H the French etfected a settle- 
ment in this region which they named Mobile and 
early in this century established .a colony at Xew 
Orleans. 



Mh 




OUK FATHERLAND. 59 



SPANISH SETTLEMENTS. 

In the, country of Mexico, hinli uj) on ;i hcMut iful 
tablc-l;iii<l, lay the city of the Aztecs. It wns n city 
of wealth and spU'iidor. Its broad streets, its tine 
])uildinos, and its rich tcniph's were anionii,' the most 
beautiful in the worhl. One of these teniph's, the one 
devoted es])ecially to the woi-sliij) of the sun, was 
ornamented with liohl and sihcr and precious stones. 
Here and there were ;^reat public s(|iiai"es of marble, 
surrounded by beautii'ul ))uildini!s ; and in the centre 
of the city was one mreat scpiare, in the mi<l<lle of 
which stood the temple of the u'od of \var. 

The people who had built this city were calhnl 
Aztecs. They were wvy dillcrent frou) the wild 
Indians the Sj)aniar(ls had found alonir- the coast, both 
in lanaiiaii'e and in customs. The\' worshi|)ped th(> 
sun and the moon, and, above all, did they worship 
the terrible uod of war, in whose honoi- they l)urnt 
the l)odies of the enemies ilwy ca])tured in l)attle. 
The t(5m])les were attended by [)riests, who were 
looked u})on with lirc^at reverences by the; jx'ople ; and 
in the temples lived little lK)ys, who were brouuht up 
by the priests, to by and by become })riests themselves. 

On great festal days, the i)riests and the Ixjys, all 
dressed in their sacred, priestly robes, would form in 



60 



OUR FATHEKLAND. 




KUiNS OF PAPANTLA (Mexican TempleO 



OUR FATHERLAND. 61 

processions and march slowly up and down the streets, 
singing and playing upon their strange instruments of 
music. 

The lake about which, and upon the islands of which, 
this ])eautiful Aztec city was l)uilt, was one of the clear- 
est, grandest lakes in the whole world ; and very fond 
were these people of building little floating islands of 
flowers upon its waters. The palaces of the king and 
nobles were liuilt of stone, and were very large and 
elegantly ornamented with shining silver and gold. 

The Aztecs were a very powerful race. The Aztec 
King was the terror of all the tribes around. Every- 
where, from the Pacific to the Gulf of Mexico, were 
well-l)uilt roads leading from city to city, so that the 
king might send his messengers, with speed and 
safety, from one part of his kingdom to another. 

The Aztecs did not dress themselves in the skins of 
animals, as did the Indians farther north. They wove 
cotton into cloth and made garments of it. They had 
a Avritten language, and wrote the history of their 
wars and the lives of their kings out carefully, and 
kept them in the sacred temple. 

The name of their king was Montezuma. All the 
people looked with great reverence upon this king, 
and obeyed his slightest command as a command from 
the gods. But the riches of this beautiful city, and 
the power of Montezuma had been heard of by the 



^'2 OUR FATHERLAND. 

Spanish adventurers. Alas for Montezuma and his 
beautiful city ! The Spaniards, always eager for gold, 
o'old, oold, sent an army under Hernando Cortes to 
conquer this king aiid steal away the wealth of his 
great kingdom. Cortes was a brave soldier, but he 
was a cruel, unprincipled man. 

It was in the year 1519 that Cortes landed his 
troops on the coast of Mexico. Straight inland to the 
very heart of the Aztec country, into their very capi- 
tal he marched. Then followed a scene of sad defeat 
to these good, simple-hearted Aztecs and their brave 
Montezuma. 

All the wealth of the country passed into the hands 
of the Spaniards. All the fertile valleys, the rich 
plains, the beautiful capital, all the little villages and 
great farms, the rich mines of silver and gold — all 
these fell into the power of the King of Spain — a man 
who cared nothing for the people, but everything for 
the £:old and silver he could steal from them and the 
rich gold and silver mines, in which he could force 
them, under fear of the Spanish sword, to work as 
slaves. 

For three hundred years Spain governed Mexico ; 
then the people rose, indignant id the unjust treatment 
of Spain, and declared themselves free, The Mexican 
people to-day are a mixture of Spaniards and Indians. 
Many there are who still look with pride upon the 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



63 



ruins of their old temple,* and say, "I am proud that I 
am a descendant of the Aztecs ! " 

Still, if you were to go to Mexico to-day, you would 
hardly find much in the appearance of the people, or 
in the character of the country, to remind you of the 
l^rave old Aztecs who were so cruelly wronged. 
Everything is Spanish there ; and it is only about 
seventy years ago that Mexico threw off the Spanish 
yoke, and declared herself an independent power. 

The new Mexican Eepnblic, at the time of its birth 
as a free State, included Avhat we now call Texas, and 
also that part of the present United States which lies 
west of the Eio Grande. By and by, further on in our 
book, we shall learn how the United States has since 
come into possession of those territories which 
belonoed then to Mexico. 




PART III. 



THE BIRTH OF A NATION. 



The " thirteen original colonies" 
were not nil founded l)y English 
peo})le we know ; still they were 
very soon e()nil)ined nnder English 
vn\(\ and niiglit well have been con- 
sidered the brightest jewel in the 
English crown. 

Unfortunately, howe\-er, Eng- 
hmd was at this time ruled l)y ti 
A'ery obstinate and stupid king, 
(leorge III, who, to make a bad 
matter worse, was himself rided by 
advisers as obstinate and stupid as 
he was himself. So instead of hon- 
oring and caring for the American 
colonies as he should have done, this king attempted 

G4 




lUilTISIl GHENAIUKK. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 65 

to enslave them jind force them to do those thinog 
which woukl be of advjintiioc to Enoliind, re<rardless 
of whether it was just and fair to them, or whether it 
was for their comfort or achantao'e. 

Governors and other officials, wlio regarded neither 
the needs nor the riiihts of the American people, were 
sent over to control them ; taxes were levied upon 
them without their consent; and soldiers were quar- 
tered among them to keep them in order. 

At last, becoming' convinced that the king was deter- 
mined to establisli an "absolute tyranny" over them, 
the colonists resoh'ed to resist. This led to the long 
and ])ainful war for independence, commonl}^ called 
the " Kevolul ionar}' War ;" a war which resulted in 
the separation of the colonies from the mother coun- 
try, and in their ])ecoming one of the greatest nations 
on the earth. 



THE FIRST BLOOD OF THE REVOLUTION. 

At this time Massachusetts was one of the leadinof 
colonies in America. She had, too, been particularly 
defiant of English rule and had boldly opposed the 
unjust measures of Great Britain. For this reason, 
together with her central location and her large and 



66 OUR FATHERLAND. 

important port, troops were stationed in the city of 
Boston, and General Gage was sent over to assume 
the control of this colony as its governor. 

In the fall of 1774, when the ]\Iassachusetts legisla- 
ture was to meet, General Gage, thinking it a fine op- 
portunity to display his royal power, sent out a proc- 
lamation forbidding any legislative session. " AVe 
shall meet," answered the legislators quietly "at the 
usual time." And meet they did, greatly to the sur- 
prise, no doubt, of the blustering red-coated governor 
who had presumed to dictate to them. And it was at 
this very legislati^ e session that the first steps were 
taken towards equipping soldiers for any possible out- 
break, and getting together military stores. These 
soldiers, not yet under any regular order, agreed to 
hold themselves ready at a " minute's notice " to leave 
their farms, their homes, their offices, and present 
themselves for war upon their unjust rulers. For 
this reason the soldiers called themselves "minute 
men ; " and so pertinent was the name that it has 
been passed d(nvn as one of the glorious battle-cries 
of the Ee volution. 

Gen. Gage lost no time in informing the British 
government of this rebellion to his authority on the 
part of the Massachusetts people. England's dignity 
was injured now. "The idea," blustered King George, 
"of that little colony daring to defy the English Gov- 



OUR FATHERLAND. 67 

ernment ! Let more troops be sent at once to the 
Massachusetts shores, and let every measure be taken 
to teach these insolent colonists their place before the 
throne ! " 

Governor Gage kept close watch upon the Americans. 
Spies Avere sent in all directions and into all places 
that every movement of the colonists might be known. 
Among other commands, Gen. Gage had proclaimed 
that a heavy penalty would l)c visited u[)<)n the liead of 
any colonist Avho should dare carry out of the town of 
Boston any ammunition or other military supplies. 

But Gen. Gage had yet to learn the determination 
of these quiet, home-loving people. He little thought, 
as the demure-looking farmers passed to and fro with 
their vegetaldes and hay, that underneath, in every 
h)ad, were a goodly supply of anununition and scores 
upon scores of guns — all on their way to Concord to 
be hidden away for future use. 

But by and by one of the spies grew suspicious of 
these very wagon loads. Marching up to one of them 
driven by an unprotected farmer, he cried out," Halt !" 
The firmer plodded steadily along unmindful of the 
order. "Halt ! " repeated the spy, this time approach- 
ing the load and levelling his gun at the driver. " Un- 
load !" demanded he. The farmer had no choice but 
to unload. You may be sure, however, he did not fail, 
as soon as released, to warn his countrymen that their 



68 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



secret was discovered, and so put them on their 
o-uard . 




THE SIGNAL LANTERN. 



And now, the Americans, fearihg- that they might 
I)e surprised and their supplies taken from them, kept 
an ecjually ck)se watch upon the British. Niglit after 
nio'ht, men were stationed at Charlestown and at other 



OUR FATHERLAND. (i9 

places in the vicinity of Boston, ready to ride off in all 
directions to alarm the country in case the British troops 
attempted to leaA^e the city under cover of tlie dark- 
ness. The patriots in Boston Avere on the lookout, 
and were to signal to these Avatchers across the river, 
if there seemed to ])e any suspicious movement among 
the English troops. 

Just after midnight, on the ninteenth of April, 1775, 
several hundred red-coats, Avho had quietly crossed 
the Charles river in l^oats, Avere discovered silently 
slip])ing along the country road from Cani])ridi»e to- 
wards Lexington. They had kei)t tlieir setting out 
a profound secret, and Avere anticipating the pleasure 
of announcing themselves most unexpectedly to the 
good people of CiniLord at the very break of day. 

But to their own surprise, hardly Avere they out 
upon the march liefore the loud clanging of l)ells from 
cA^ery steeple, ringing out ui)on the still midnight air, 
Avarned them that their movements were known to the 
colonists. 

"We may as Avell push on," said their leader grindy ; 
"but first Ave Avill send l)ack for more troops. Our 
morning call may not be as quietly received as Ave had 
thought. These colonists aren't the most hospitable 
hosts always, I haA e noticed." 

It Avas just at sunrise that the troops appeared upon 
the village green at Lexington. There stood seventy 



70 OUR FATHERLAND, 

brave minute men — only seventy — to repel the 
advance of the kmg's forces. 

" Disperse, ye rebels!" cried Major Pitcairn. 
*' Lay down your arms and disperse ! " 

But the " minute men " had come to defend their 
homes — not to slink awiiy like frightened cowards 
before their country's foe. 

" Fire upoif the rebels ! " ordered Pitcairn. Out 
blazed the British guns ; and when the smoke had 
rolled away, there lay eight brave minute men — dead ; 
the first martyrs in this conflict for liberty and right. 

There could be no regular l)attle between forces so 
unequal as these, brave though the " minute men " were 
through it all. 

It Avas a sad, sad day for the "Middlesex folk;" 
and many a family sat that night, mourning over 
the dead form of some loved one, shot down in 
the cruel day's work. 

This then was the first bloodshed of the Revolution. 

And now war had begun in earnest. There Avas 
no alternative. " Fight Ave must against the mother 
country," said the colonists. 

Hundreds of brave men Avho loved the mother coun- 
try, and Avho Avould have been glad to remain loyal to 
her, Avere impelled by their greater love for liberty to 
take up arms against her. They did not lay them 
down again until eight years later, Avhen, after many 



OUR FATHERLAND. 71 

battles and almost inconceivable sufferings, the col- 
onies, a united people, had taken their place among 
the nations of the world. 



THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

One of the most important events of the eight years' 
conllict was the Declaration of Independence which we 
celebrate so joyfidly e^'ery fourth of July. 

As the ^var progressed, the people both North and 
South beo'an to feel that a reconciliation with Eno-land 
was impossible, and that a complete separation from 
her was necessary. In May of 177(), the Virginia 
Assembly directed their delegates to propose to the 
National Congress that the colonies declare them- 
selves free and independent states. According!}^, on 
the seventh of June, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia 
offered in Congress the following resolution, "That 
these united colonies are, and of a right ought to be, 
free and independent states ; that they are absolved 
from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all 
connection l)etween them and the state of Great Britain 
is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." 

It was decided to postpone, for a few Aveeks, the 
voting upon this resolution, in order that each member 
of Congress might confer with the colony he repre- 



72 OUR FATHERLAND. 

rented as to the action to ]je taken on this important 
question. 

During the remainder of the month, "in every part 
of the country, by farmers and merchants, hy mechan- 
ics and planters, l)y the fishermen along the coast, and 
hy the backwoodsmen of the West ; in town meetings 
and from the [)uli)it ; in social gatherings and around 
the camp-fires ; in newsjiapers and in pamphlets ; in 
county conventions and conferences of committees ; 
in colonial conaresses and assemblies," this oreat 
question of American Independence was discussed. 

On the second of July the resolution was again 
brought before Congress. A connnittee Avas finally 
appointed to prepare a declaration of independence, 
and two days later the Dtdaratlon of Lidej)endence 
was i)resented to the members of Congress for their 
signatures. 

These men knew, if their o})position to Great Britain 
proved a failure and the colonies were finally con- 
quered, that the war, in the eyes of the world, would 
be a rebellion, not a revolution ; that each man who 
put his name to that })a23er would l)e looked upon as a 
traitor, and that he would probably 1)e hung for trea- 
son. But these men had little thought of self. Love 
of country w^as everything with them. 

Philadelphia Avas the first capital of our country and, 
until 1797, Congress met in an old hall of the city, 



OUR FATHERLAND. 73 

called Independence Ilall, l)ecaii.se in it the Declara- 
tion of Independence was signed on the Fourth of 
July, 1776, and was later i)ublicly announced from its 
steps. The city is very proud of this hall, and })re- 
serves it with great care. 

Should yon visit Philadelphia, you will find one old 
room in this building looking just as it did when in it 
Washington Avas appointed Commander-in-Chief of the 
American army. 

In this Iniilding are many relics of historical inter- 
est — among them an old hell called the "Lil)erty 
Bell," bearing this inscription: "Proclaim Li])ei'ty 
throughout the Land, unto all the inhabitants there- 
of." 

The story of this old "Liberty Bell " is as follows : 
"It was the Fourth of July, 177(). AVithin the cham- 
ber of Liberty Hall sat the National Congress — the 
men who were to sign the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence, by which, as they knew full well, they were to 
put themselves before the world either as heroes of a 
revolution or traitors of a rebellion. 

About the doorway surged the })eople. Far uj) in 
the belfry sat the grave old bell-ringer, ready to rino- 
out the glad tidings of liberty when the Declaration 
should have been signed and sealed. At the door of 
the chamber sat the old bell-ringer's little grandson, 
waiting to receive the glad message and hasten with it 
to his grandfather. 



74 OUR FATHERLAND. 

Hour after hour the old man sat u})on the belfry 
steps, his hand upon the rope. Hour after hour the 
throng surged up and down the street and against the 
very portal of the Hall, eager to hear what the con- 
vention of Ameriea's wise men would do. 

It was not a question to he decided in a moment ; 
for these wise men knew that u})on their judgment 
now depended the fate of the people. 

"Will they do it? Dare they do it?" asked the 
eager throng outside. 

"We IV ill do it ! " answered the grave men within. 
"And I," said John Hancock, " Avill sign ni}^ name so 
large and free that England's king and all the world 
can read it." 

The chamber door is opened. The little lad at the 
door is given the signal. Jumi)ing up from the door- 
way, his eyes sparkling and his yellow hair Hying 
about the little face, he cried, 

"Ring, grandpa, ring! O, ring for liberty !" 

And there stood the ])oy clapping his hands and 
shouting, " Ring ! Ring ! " Grasping the iron tongue 
of the old bell, backward and forward he hurled it a 
hundred times, its loud voice proclaiming " Liberty 
throuofhout all the land unto all the. inhabitants there- 
of." The excited multitude in the streets responded 
with loud acclamations ; and Avith cannon-peals, bon- 
fires, and illuminations, the patriots testified their joy 
that night in the quiet city of Penn. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 75 

OUR FLAG. 

Flag of a 1:111(1 where the people are free, 

Ever the breezes salute and caress it ; 
riauted oil earth or afloat on the sea, 

Gallant men guard it and fair women bless it. 
Fling out the folds o'er a country united, 
Wanned by the Ures that our forefathers lighted. 
Refuge wdierc down-trodden man is invited — 
Flag of the rainbow and Ijaiiner of stars. 

— Thomas I). English. 

Oil the fourth of June, 1777, Congress voted that 
the United States should have a liag of its own, 
the design of whieh shoukl ])e thirteen alternate 
red and white stripes, representing the thirteen original 
eolonies, and that in the eorncir, on a li(dd of l)Iue, 
should l)e thirteen white stars, representing the thir- 
teen now "United States." 

Capt. Paul Jones has in history the honor of l)eing 
the first to raise the new iiaa'. The flag was made by 
the Philadelphia Avonien ; and he, in a small boat 
sailed up and down the Schuylkill River, the colors 
flying, to show the assembled people what their 
national flag would be. 

The same old flag, so dear to us all, that still floats 
over every United States' vessel or camp or building 
— the same only in that for every new State that has 
since been added to our brave Union, a new star has 
been added to the "field of ])lue," 



PART IV. 

THE GROWTH OF THE COUNTRY. 

It Avas a long tiiiio l)ct'oi'c the tide of eiiiigration 
eros.sed the Mi88i8si[)[)i. Stories of great desert Avastes 
of land on Avhieh only herds of buffiiloes and seattered 
ti-il)es of savage Indians Avere seen, made it seem 
hardly Avorth Avhile to eross the river. And so emi- 
gration turned south Avard. All uj) and doAvn the 
]\Iississip})i now Avere eities and towns, and the Miss- 
issii)pi came to be looked upon almost as a natural 
l)oundary to our country. 



PASSAGE DOWN THE OHIO. 

As down Ohio's CA'or cbbiug tide, 
Oarless and sailless, silently they glide, 
How still the scene, how lifeless, yet how fair 
AVas the lone land that met the stranger there ! 
No smiling villages or curling smoke 
The busy haunts of busy men bespoke ; 
No solitary hut, the banks along. 
Sent forth blitlie labor's homely, rustic song ; 

76 



OUR FATHERLAXD. 




78 OUR FATHERLAND. 

No urchin gambolled on the smooth, white sand, 

Or hurled the skipping-stone with pla3^ful hand, 

AV^hile playmate dog plunged in the clear blue wave 

And swam, in vain, the sinking prize to save. 

AYhere now are seen, along the river-side. 

Young, busy towns, in buxom, painted pi-ide. 

And fleets of gliding boats with riclies crowned. 

To distant Orleans or St. Louis bound. 

Nothing appeared but nature unsubdued. 

One endless, noiseless, woodland solitude. 

Or boundless prairie, that aye seemed to be 

As level and as lifeless as the sea ; 

They seemed to breathe in tliis wild world alone. 

Heirs of the earth — the land was all their own ! 

'Twas evening now ; the hour of toil was o'er. 

Yet still they durst not seek the fearful shore. 

Lest watchful Indian crew should silent creep. 

And spring upon and murder them in sleep ; 

So through the livelong night they held their way 

And 'twas a night might shame the fairest day ; 

So still, so bright, so tranquil was its reign. 

They cared not though the da}' ne'er came again. 

The moon high wheeled the distant hills above, 

Silvered the fleecy foliage of the grove, 

That as the wooing zephyrs on it fell, 

AVhispered it loved the gentle visit well ; 

That fair-faced orb alone to move appeared. 

That zephyr was the only sound they heard. 

No deep-mouthed hound, the hunter's haunt betrayed, 

No lights upon the shore or waters played, 

No loud laugh broke upon the silent air. 

To tell the wanderers, man was nestling there. 

All, all was still, on gliding bark and shore. 

As if the earth now slept to wake no more. 

— James K. Paulding. 



MapIII 



At the Close of tlie Revolution 




■V-. 



^^ 



ENGLISH 

UNITED STATES 

FRENCH 

SPANISH 

OREGON 



Disputed Territory, 



Map 



After tlie purchase of .lomsiaiia 1803. 



• t\i 



ENGLISH 

UNITED STATES 

SPANISH - 

OREGON . . 



V. 



P 




OUPt FATHERLAND. 79 



THE PURCHASE OF LOUISIANA. 

The port of Xew Orleans and the country there- 
a])out, YOU remember, were still held by the French. 
This was all Avell enough if France always remained 
friendly, and gave the United States freedom to pass 
up and down the ^Mississippi at Avill, But, in the for- 
tunes of nations, one is never sure what may happen, 
and as okl, far-seeino- Thomas Jefferson, then the 
President of the United States, said, "It is well 
enough, no matter how good your neiglil)ors are, to 
own the lanes that lead to the doors of your own 
house." 

And so it came about that ambassadors from the 
French Government, and from the Government of the 
United States, met and agreed upon satisfactory terms, 
under which the United States bought of France the 
territor}" of Louisiana. Neither France nor America 
at that time realized how great was to be the value of 
the territory thus exchanged — even its size was 
unknown — for much of the great AVest was then 
wholly unexplored. 

Think what a change there has been since this "Pur- 
chase of Louisiana I " New Orleans stands now as the 
greatest cotton market in the world, and its sugar trade 
is second onlv to that of Havana. From Minnesota 



80 OUR FATHERLAND. 

to the Gulf of Mexico the river banks are covered 
with great cities, rich farms, and noisy factories ! The 
great wilderness that once extended from its western 
])ank to the Pacific Coast, is to us to-day almost like a 
myth, as impossible to realize as that Boston and New 
York and Chicago were once little " clearings " where 
some good farmer, driving his cows home at night, 
looked al)out over his pleasant fields, rejoicing in the 
goodly crops and in the valuable timl)er-land. 



THE PURCHASE OF FLORIDA. 

The Spanish colony in Florida was altogether out of 
place, so the United States thought, and an energetic 
attemi)t Avas made to take possession of that territory 
by the United States. 

One great reason that this territory was looked 
upon with disfavor, was because from the ver}^ begin- 
ning of slaA cry in the Southern States, the run-away 
slaves had sought the "Everglades of Florida " as their 
one place of refuge from the blood-hounds with Avhich 
the slave owner used to pursue Jiis slaves. Once in 
Florida, the poor negro slave Avas sure of the sym- 
pathy of the Seminole Indians there. 

Every year more and more slaves Avould escape into 



Map V. 



After the purchase of riorida 1819. 




OUR FATHERLAND. 81 

this terntory of Florida ; and every year the angry 
slave owners would declare they would endure it no 
longer. 

Now and then a hand of Southern planters would 
make a raid into Florida to seareli for these slaves. 
The Indians, remembering well the treatment they 
themselves had recei^'ed from the white men, Avere 
only too glad to shield the poor runaways, and help 
to hide them deep in the Everglades, beyond the scent 
even of the cruel blood-hounds. 

For weeks sometimes these slaves would lie hidden 
in the EAcrglades, saved from starvation only by the 
brave kindness of the Indians. 

Then, too, the Indian never lost an opportunity to 
avenge his oavu Avrongs ; and often a slave-master, 
searching among the EA^erglades, Avould tind himself 
in an Indian ambush, from which the Indian ncAer 
permitted him to go forth aliAC. 

For these reasons, the Southern slave OAvners com- 
plained l^itterly of this unpleasant neighl)or of theirs, 
and begged the (lovernment to send an army into 
Florida to subdue these Seminole Indians, and compel 
them to return the hidden slaA es. 

At last forces Avere sent into Florida. Gen. Jack- 
son AA-as the leading spirit. He marched doAvn into 
the peninsula, carrying hre and destruction to the vil- 
ages and terror to the Indians. Jackson marched into 



82 OUR FATHERLAND. 

the Spanish cities, hauled down the Spanish flags, 
raised the Stars and Stripes over the forts, shot dead 
some English subjects, declaring in his impetuous 
fashion that he would clear the Avhole territory in 
sixty days. 

All this was perhaps daring and energetic. Cer- 
tainly the people there thought so ; hut it was not a 
wise proceeding. Spain and England were not to 
endure such operations as these. The United States 
was in a fair way for getting into serious trouble with 
both countries. Some sort of peace must l)e settled 
upon, and that, too, at once. 

Florida, standing there all by itself, had been of 
little value — rather more plague than prolit — for a 
long time to Spain. And, for this reason, Spain did 
not need so very much urging to give up her claim upon 
this one bit of territory. Accordingly ambassadors 
met, and it was agreed that for live millions of dollars 
Florida should be ceded to the United States. 



HOW TEXAS WAS OBTAINED. 

Not very long after the Mexicans had. declared 
themselves free from Spain and had set themselves 
up as a free republic, permission was granted the 



OUK FATHERLAND. 83 

United States to found colonies within the limits of 
the present Texas. 

These colonists, or emigrants from the United States 
did not have a very easy time in their new home. 
The Indians hated them, and the Mexicans themselves 
were none too friendly. They were jealous of the 
wide awake "' Yankees " as they called them, and 
feared that hy and hy the territcny would be so in the 
possession of the emigrants that they themselves 
would have little power. For this, with other reasons, 
the Government of Mexico, in 1830, sent forth an 
order, forbidding any further settling of Texas by peo- 
ple from the United States. 

But there were already too many Americans there 
and far too much of the American spirit of indepen- 
dence to make the order of much avail. Troubles 
arose. The Americans asked for admission to the 
United States. War followed between Mexico and 
the United States, Avhich ended in the ceding to the 
United States of all the territory, including Texas, 
al)ove a certain latitude ; and thus the United 
States came into possession of Texas and California. 

In this war with Mexi(;o, Avhicli ended so victorious- 
ly for the United States, Gen. Taylor was sent to Mex- 
ico to march to Monterey, Gen. Scott was to take 
possession of Vera Cruz and then march on to the 
Mexican capital, and another force at the same time 
was to invade New Mexico and California. 



84 



OUR FATHEPtLAND. 



We will not stop to give a very long account of the 
Mexican War ; ])ut a few lines regarding Monterey, 
Buena Vista, and Mexico City will })erliaps he of 
interest here. 

Monterey was a heautiful city, situated on the high 
road from the Eio Grande to the city f)f Mexico. It 
was protected in front l)y a strong citadel, and in the 




GREAT SQUARE AND CATHEDRAL, MEXICO. 

rear by two strongly fortihed hills. To attack this 
city seemed at first fool-hardiness. "But Ave are here," 
said Taylor,'' to take the city; so take it we Avill or 
die." 

Such a heautiful city as Monterey looked to he as 
the invading army marched against it ! One author 
in descri])ing it says, " ^Monterey rose before their 
eyes with all the beauty of some enchanted place ; 



OUR FATHERLAND. 85 

afifainst a backgiouiul of wooded heights and white- 
towered iiilLs, gleamed its citadels and })arapets and 
towers, while its cathedrals and palaces, and gorgeous 
flower-gardens, with the sunlight falling over dome 
and spire, and glistening leaf, recalled some dream of 
fairyland, where oolden cities rise at the biddinir of 
the enchanter's wand, and the morning mist dissolves 
to show scenes of wonder and delight/' 

For Ave long days the siege of this city lasted ; and 
at its close, the once beautiful city presented a sad, 
sad picture of l)lackened w^alls, shattered towers, and 
ruined palaces. The Irroken-spirited Mexicans who 
had so bravely defended their beautiful home, now 
wandered u}) and down the deserted streets, searchino- 
among the ruins and among the dead for the brave 
sons and fathers who had fallen in the fight, then slow- 
ly and sadly passed out through the gates, leaving the 
Americans in full possession of their dearly-bought field 
of triumph. 



MONTEREY. 

We were not many, — we who stood 
Before the iron sleet that day ; 

Yet many a gallant spirit would 
Give half his years if but he could 

Have been with us at Monterey. 



86 OUR FATHERLAND. 

Now here, now there, the shot is hailed 

111 deadly drifts of fiery spray, 
Yet not a single soldier quailed 

AYhen wounded comrades round them wailed 
Their dying shout at ^Monterey. 

And on, still on our column ivept, 

Through walls of flame, its withering way ; 

AVhere fell the dead, the living stept, 
Still charging on the guns which swept 

The slippery streets of Monterey. 

The foe himself recoiled aghast, 

When, striking where he strongest lay, 

We swooped his flanking batteries past. 
And, braving full their murderous blast, 

Stormed home the towers of Monterey. 

Our banners on those turrets wave, 
And there our evening bugles play ; 

Where orange boughs above their graves, 
Keep green the memory of the brave, 

AYlio fought and fell at Monterey. 

We are not many, — we who passed 
Beside the brave who, fell that day ; 

But who of us has not confessed 
He'd rather share their warrior rest 

Than not have been at Monterey. 

— CHAKLE3 FENNO HOFFMAN- 



Map \ 




MapYII 




OUR FATHERLAND. 87 



BUENA VISTA. 



At Buciui Vista was another sad ))attle, ending like 
that at Monterey in a complete victory. 

Gen. Taylor had sent a large })art of his army to 
join Gen. Scott on the coast, and had taken position 
at Buena Vista, a narrow mountain i)ass. Here he 
anxiously awaited the appearance of the Mexican 
troops . 

Soon, on they came, over the hills, through the 
mountain gorges, along the roads — })erfect swarms of 
them, led by Santa Anna, Mexico's great general, who 
with his vast numbers Avas sure of success. 

"AVe ?^ir«.s'^ succeed," Santa Anna Avould say to his 
men. "Remember our defeat at Monterey, and see to 
it that the enemy does not overcome us again at Buena 
Vista." 

A fierce, all-day battle. Santa Anna was a brave foe 
and a skilfid general ; but he could not hold his men 
against the perpetual onslaught of our more rugged 
northerners, and durino^ the niiiht, discourao^ed at his 
loss of men, he drew back his troops and retreated to 
the city. 

Now Scott, having taken Vera Cruz, began his 
march to the city of Mexico. Victory was with him 
in every movement. As his troops toiled up the rugged 



88 OUR FATHERLAND. 

slope of the mountain road leading to the great capital, 
castle after castle and fortress after fortress were cap- 
tured and destroyed. But Mexico, though ])eaten in 
every encounter, seemed to know no such word as sur- 
render. Like the 1)rave old Astecs so long before, 
they seemed Avilling to die to the last man rather than 
that surrender should l^e thought a possibility. Already 
the United States had twice offered terms of peace, 
but the Mexicans had scorned to listen. 

As the American army neared the city, and saw its 
beautiful domes shinino* in the clear sunlight, its cath- 
edral si)ires, and its magniticent towers, a feeling 
almost of regret passed through the heart of many a 
soldier, that this beautiful city, too, nuist fall. 

The advance of the American army ui)on the city 
was hot and herce. One after another tlie strong fort- 
resi^es were destro^-ed, — torn dcnvn, and the 
causeways won. The castle of Chapultepec was car- 
ried by assault ; and when night fell, the weary Mexi_ 
cans Avithdrew to the citadel to hold a council of war. 
Little was to be said. Defeat Avas certain, and there 
seemed nothing else to do T)ut to withdraw the army 
during the night, and in the morning to allow the city 
magistrates to go out to meet the , enemy, asking for 
terms of surrender. 

This they did; but Scott ignored their ofters, drew 
up his troops and marched into the city. "We make 



OUR FATHERLAND 89 

no terms," said Scott, grimly; "we take the citie.s." 
And in a i'vAV hours the Stars and Stripes were flying 
from the great dome of the Mexican eapitol. 

During this time the peo})le of California and New 
Mexico, many of them United States emigrants, had 
declared themselves free from Mexican rule, and had 
ap})lied to the United States for protection ; and now 
the Avhole Mexican territory was at the mercy of the 
United States authority. Little remained for Mexico 
to do, l)ut to agree to such terms of peace as her con- 
queror saw fit to make. 

iVccordingly peace Avas established, and the United 
States l)y this war found herself richer by all the terri- 
tory north of the Kio Grande and Gila rivers out to 
the Pacitic coast. 



THE PURCHASE OF ALASKA. 

In l<S(i7 our Govermuent made its last acquisition 
of territory, ])y purchasing of the Russians all the 
northwestern })art of North America, Avhich then be- 
longed to them, and Avas known as Kussian America, 
])ut Avhich now is called Alaska. 

The addition of this territory to the country has 
made it consist of two great divisions, Alaska — 
nearly as large as Germany, Austria, and France com- 



90 OUR FATHERLAND. 

bined — and the states and territories fonnd in the 
central portion of the continent. 

Alaska is a country rich in furs and mines. There 
are also, in the southern })ortion of it, good agricul- 
tural and tinil)er lands, but it is an undeveloi)ed region, 
inha])ited chietly l)y Indians, wh(^ live in a rude ^vay, 
supporting themselves mainly by fishing. 

When the })urchase of Alaska was made, there was 
much said a1)out the A^aluable fisheries and timber of 
the country. Nothing Avas said, howcA^er, about tAvo 
little islands off the coast called St. Paid and St. 
George ; but, strange to say, it is these two little 
rocky, barren points of land that have proved to ])e 
the chief source of revenue to the United States since 
the purchase. 

To see these points of barren rock, half hidden in 
the fog, you Avould Avonder of what use they could 
possibly be, much more of Avhat A^alue. But hark ! 
Did 3^ou hear that si)lash? and another, and another? 
Look sharply through the fog. Do you see those 
bhtck objects craAvling up the sides of the rocks 'i 

Sure enough ! they are seals ; and the seals act as 
if the rock is a place they like, and as if they are 
familiar Avith it, too. And so, indeed, they are, as 
the United States Government could proA^e to you ; 
for, on account of the number of seals that frequent 
these rocks, the GoA^ernment leases these islands to a 
corporation for a yearly rental of sixty thousand dollars. 



MapYIIL 



After tlie piu'cTiase of Alaska 1867. 




ENGLISH ._ 

UNITED STATES 
SPANISH ... 



OUR FATHERLAND. 91 

The company is also taxed nine dollars and sixty-two 
and one-half cents for each seal taken (Uirino- the season, 
and as one hundred thousand seals are killed each year, 
the Government receives nine hundred and sixty-two 
thousand hve hundred dollars in addition to the sixty 
thousand dollars for rent, the total sum returning 
them more than fair interest on the seven million five 
hundred thousand dollars which our Government paid 
to the Kussians for the territory now known as 
Alaska. 



A BABY IN FURS. 



On any one of a great many small islands along 
the uninhabited parts of our coasts lives a little animal 
whose l)al)yhood is one of the strangest we know. 

It is so cold and wet in his native land that this 
creature wears two coats of fur to keep him warm, 
and it is so uncomfortable for men, that no one, 
except the natives, Avho are used to the climate, 
care to stay there long enough to lind out about his 
ways. 

But this l)aby happens to be a very important 
youngster, because the coat he wears is so desired by 
ladies to put on their own backs, that it becomes very 



92 OUll FATHERLAND. 

valuable. It is .seal-skin, and the baby, of course, is 
the fur seal. 

AVhen this infant comes into the cold, wet world, he 
is al)out as big as a half-grown cat. He is dressed in 
a suit of rather long l)lack hair, with an under-coat of 
fine, short fur, and he has a small, white spot behind 
each forearm. His head is pretty, as are the heads of 
all seals, and he has beautiful, large, dark-blue eyes 
with long lashes. 

Hisfore-fiippers, broad, fin-like looking things, are 
extremely useful. On them he walks, taking short, 
mincing steps, and then bringing u}) Avith a jerk his 
body, which rests on the heels of his hind-fiippers ; 
with these also he swims. 

His hind-fiippers, however, are the strangest mem- 
bers one can imagine. They are long and thin, or fiat 
like a 1)lack kid glove pressed fiat and wrinkled. The 
long fingers, turned far out on each side, llap al)out in 
a useless kind of way. In swimming they are used 
to steer with, but on shore merely to fan and scratch 
himself. He never rests on them. 

The young seal is a regular baby. The first thing 
he does is to cry with a weak "blaat," like that of a 
laml). 

A very interesting sight is a field, five or six miles 
long, filled with little seals — hundreds of thousands 
of them — almost as thick as orains of sand on the 



OUR FATHERLAND. 93 

shore. Many are lying around in every possible 
position. Some of them are flat on their backs, with 
hind-flippers drawn up to the chin and the fore-flippers 
crossed on the breast ; others lie flat on the stomach, 
with hind-flippers under the ])ody ; still others on the 
side, Avith one flipper held up in the air; while some 
are curled up in a ring like a dog. 

Most of these bal)ies sleep in a restless, jerk}", ner- 
vous wa}^ as if they had l)ad dreams. Many 
Avill l)e seen playing with each other, loping over the 
grounJ uneasily, day and night alike, or rolling over 
and over in good-natured frolic, for these amiable 
little beasts are never ill-natured. The sounds arising 
froin the multitude will l)e the l)laat of hunger and the 
clioo ! choo I of surprise. 

The interesting time in this water-liaby's life comes 
when he learns to swim. His parents take no notice 
of him, and the little fellow has to attend to his own 
education, for, strange to say, though destined to pass 
his life in the water, he cannot swim till he has 
learned. 

It happens thus : in his wandering about the land, 
when he gets to be Ave or six weeks old, the pup — as 
he is called — first or last stuml)les upon the beach, and 
into the edge of the surf. This is a new element ; but 
it has a fascination for him that he cannot resist. 

The first time a wave washes -up and goes over him, 



94 OUR FATHERLAND. 

he turns in hot haste and scrambles back upon the 
land, very nuich frightened ; but in a moment or two 
back he ooes, flounders a])out in the first wave, struo-- 
gles and beats the water with his little flippers, and 
comes out so tired that he has to take a nap at once. 



A SEAT. ROOKERY. 



Every day the youni:- seals play in the water, very 
clumsy and awkward at flrst, but learning more as 
time goes on, till, before many weeks, the whole baby 
population of hundreds of thousands of pups spend 
most of their time in the surf, swarmino' alonir the 
whole coast, frolicking and chatting in great glee. 

By the time the old seals leave the land, and the 



OUR FATHERLAND. 95 

young ones begin to feel the desire to go too, the 
young seal can swim and dive and sport and sleep in 
the water with ease. Also he has learned to get from 
it his food — consisting of small squids and other little 
creatures — till he is strong and expert enough to catch 
fish. 

By the middle of September, this self-training is 
ended, and the young seals weigh thirty or forty 
pounds. As the time draws near for them to take to 
then* ocean life, they shed their l^aby coats, and get on 
their " sea-going jackets " — light-gray overcoats of fine 
hair about an inch h)ng, and soft brown under ones, 
half an inch thick, which keep their bodies Avarm and 
dry. 

At the same time the old seals have put on their 
fresh suits, and the whole rookery breaks up for the 
year. The old males leave first; a little later the 
mothers and " bachelors," and last of all the young- 
lings. 

This clannish way, of each age keeping l)y itself, is 
one of the most curious customs of the seal family. 
Another interesting ha])it is the fanning, already 
spoken of. This is done with the long, thin hind-flip- 
pers, which are usually carried striking squarely out 
each side, and well up from the ground, with the ends, 
or toes, curled over. 



A LITTLE OF THE GEOGRAPHY OF THE UNITED 
STATES. 



The Size and Population of the Country. 

AVe can l)e8t tbrm some idea of the size of our coun- 
trv l)y comparing it with others. The United States 
covers ahnost as nuich area as all the enii)ires, king- 
doms, republics, and i)rincii)alities of P^urope taken 
together. The great German Empire is ])ut little 
more than three-fourths as large as Texas ; the United 
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland is about the 
si/e of California; while France could l)e cut 
out of the territories of Arizona and New Mexico, 
and still leave land enough to form a state as large as 
the republic of Switzerland. 

During the last century, our country has been rapidly 
growing in population as well as in area. At the close 
of the Revolution, there were no more })eoplc in the 
96 



OUR FATHERLAND. 97 

thirteen colonies than there are to-day in the two cities 
of New York and Philadelphia. This growth is largely 
due to immigration. In England, and in other countries 
of Europe, if a poor man wants to buy a piece of ground 
and build a house for himself, he is unable to do so be- 
cause the land is owned by a few rich men and nobles, 
who are not at lil)erty to sell their family estates. He 
can rent a piece of land to build a ht)use upon. That 
is, he binds himself, and his children after him, to pay 
a certain sum of money each year for the use of the 
land on which his house stands. In this country almost 
any poor man who works hard, and lives temperately 
and frugally, can secure for himself a home that is all his 
own. For, in the United States, a man can buy land 
anywhere, and, better than that, he can even o])tain from 
our Government, on condition that he will live upon it 
and cultivate it, a large, rich farm, an ithout paying 
anything for it. 

Again, in Europe a poor man has little or nothing to 
say al)out the government of his country, or how pub- 
lic money shall ]je spent. Vast sums have to be 
raised to support the royal families and for other ex- 
penses that are not necessary in a republic. This 
makes taxes very high, so that a ]a])oringman cannot 
afford to i)ut money into a house even if he can save 
something from his earnings to do so. 

For these reasons, the United States has been the 



98 OUR FATHERLAND. 

best of all countries for a man to live in, who is with- 
out means but willing to Avork. So for many years, 
from Germany and Sweden, and Scotland and Ireland, 
and other countries of Europe, men and women have 
l)een pouring into the United States, and now, instead 
of a few people along the Atlantic seaboard who might 
easily be crowded into one or two cities, there are 
millions and millions of them spread all over its fertile 
fields, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the 
Great Lakes to the Gulf. 

If the po]:)ulation goes on increasing for the next 
century as it has done for the last, Avhen our second 
centennial is celebrated, there will ])e eight hundred 
million people in the United States, a number greater 
than one-half the present population of the globe. 

But though the population of the United States has 
increased so rai)idly during the last few years, it is 
still small in proportion to the size of the country. In 
the United Kingdom of Great Britian and Ireland the 
population averages more than three hundred persons 
to the square mile, Avhile in the United States, even 
excluding Alaska which is very sparsely peopled, it is 
only about twenty to the square mile. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 99 



THE SURFACE OF THE UNITED STATES. 

The western portion of the United States is a part 
of the o-reat Pacific hiofhland of North America, made 
up of elevated plains bordered on one side by the 
Rocky Mountains, and on the other by the Sierra 
Nevada and Cascade lianges. In the East is a lower 
and narrower highland, stretching from Maine nearly 
to the Gulf of Mexico. Between the two highlands is 
a great plain with an elevation of a few hundred feet 
only in its highest portions, and a width of fourteen 
hundred miles. 

For centuries, frost and other agencies have been 
at work grinding to powder the tops of the lofty 
mountains that l)order this plain, and the rivers Avhich 
take their rise in these mountains have l)een spreading 
this powder, enriched ])y vegetable decay, in deeper 
and deeper layers over it, thus covering it with a 
soil of marvellous fertility. 

West of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade Eanges is 
another belt of country, narrower than the Central 
Plain, l)ut with a soil equally if not more productive, 
and with a still warmer and more delightful climate,, 
owing to the warm ocean current that flows l)y the 
western coast of North America. Each of these locali- 
ties is capalde of supporting a population of great 
density. 



100 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



The great plateaus between the Coast Eanges and 
the Eocky Mountains are now so sterile as to be 
almost destitute of veoetation, liut it is thought that 
even these sections may be hnally reclaimed by irri- 



pir 



'^, # 




PHYSICAL MAP OF 
NORTH AMERICA. 



r#^^ 



gation, just as portions of Utah have been reclaimed by 
the Mormons, who bring water to their farms and 
gardens in flumes and ditches which are connected 
with rivers miles away. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 101 

The luouiitains of the Pacific highkmd are great 
.store-liouses of the precious metals, gold and silver. 
Gold is found in great quantities o.n the California side 
of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and silver on the 
eastern side of them. Silver is also very almndant in 
the Rocky Mountains in the region of Colorado and 
of Montana. The Appalachian Mountains are rich 
in coal and iron, and are covered with vjduable 
forests to their very tops. The mountains of the 
Pacific coast of the country are also covered with valu- 
able forests. There are found the giant conifers, the 
largest trees known. 



ITS CLIMATE. 

The mountains of the United States are of impor- 
tance not only because of their mineral wealth, l)ut 
also because of their iniiucnce upon the rainfall. If a 
wind ladened with moisture is cooled it gives up its 
moisture in the form of rain or snow. Mountains are 
cool; so if a moisture-laden wind ascends highlands, 
it is always rain-l^earing. The Avarm, moist winds 
that l)low over the Pacific Ocean to California and the 
states north of it, take up great (juantities o.f a apor, 
and, l)eing cooled by the Siei'ra Nevada and Cascade 
Ranges, deposit an al)undance of rain in the rich val- 
leys west of those mountains. 



102 OUR FATHERLAND. 

By a wonderful provision of nature the great cen- 
tral plain is also well watered. If it were not foi that 
great inland sea, the Gulf of Mexico, the spring and 
sunnncr winds that l)low over this plain would be 
dry. As it is they take uj) moisture from the Gulf 
and, being cooled l)y moving into cooler latitudes, give 
up this moisture in coi)ious showers. 

It is found that nations become most highly civil- 
ized and most powerful, who live in tem})erate climates, 
where the cold is not so great as to make them dull, 
nor the heat so great as to make them indolent. The 
United States lies in the most desiral)le i)art of the 
temperate zone of North America and so has the best 
possible climate for the development of a mighty na- 
tion. Besides this, it extends through so many degrees 
of latitude, that it has every variety of climate and of 
plant life found in that zone. 



ITS AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS. 

The most important i)roducts of a country are its 
agricultural })r()ducts because its people are mainly 
dependent upon these for food and clothing. The 
})eople of the United States may be called a nation of 
farmers, as nearly one-half of the working i)opulation 
are cultivators of the soil, and, what is better still, 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



103 



three-fourths of these eiiltivators live on their own 
farms. The most vahuible erops of the eountry are 
the cereals, hay, and cotton. 



THE CEREALS. 

Raise in pots or in 
beds some wheat, Indian 
corn, rice, oats, barley, 
buckwheat and millet 
and you will find that 
all ))ut the l)uckwheat 
ha^'e the structure of 
common grass, and are 
therefore grasses. We 
Americans call the seed 
of the maize, corn. An 
Eno'lishman calls the 
seed of the wheat, corn. 
The seeds of all these 
grasses are properly 
corns, and, because 
from the flour formed 
from them various kinds 
of bread are made, they 
CORN. are called bread-corns. 

Any grass that produces bread-corn is a cereal. Since 




104 OUR FATHERLAND. 

buckwheat is not a grass it is not one of the cereals, 
but it is often classed Avith them on account of the fact 
that its seeds are made into flour. 

Of all vegeta1)lc products the cereals are the most 
important, T)ecause they are the principal food of mil- 
lions of the human family. If the cotton crop fails, it 
occasions great inconvenience to poor people, still they 
can live through the year in spite of it ; Init if a Avdieat 
crop or rice crop fails in some densely populated 
eastern country, it may mean death hy starvation to 
thousands of the lower chisses. It is estimated that 
one-third of the population of the ^vorld su]>sists 
chiefly upon rice. 

Rice is a cereal of warm latitudes, Ijeing found in 
the torrid zone, and in the warmer portions of the 
temperate zone. It was formerly produced on the 
low-lands along the Southern Atlantic States, ])ut the 
cultivation of this grain is declining in the United 
States. It is })roduced in enormous quantities in 
India, China and Japan, where in certain localities it 
is almost the only food of the ver^^ poor. 



CORN. 

Wheat ranks next to rice in importance, but in our 
own country the most valuable cereal is Indian corn or 
maize, as it is more properly called. This is a native 



n ■ 

< 




OUR FATHERLAND. 



lOo 



of the New World and was cultivated by the Indians 
long before the white man set foot upon this conti- 
nent. The climate of a large part of the United 
States is especially adapted to the cultivation of this 
grain, as it needs summers which are marked by hot 
nights as well as days, and l)y copious showers. It 




SHOCKING mDIAN COKN OR MAIZE. 

flourishes in both the Northern and the Southern States, 
being readily grown almost anywhere south of the 
forty-si xth parallel . 

The principal corn belt lies between the Gulf States 
and Michigan, crossing the Mississippi River into 
Iowa, Missouri and Kansas, Although the corn crop 



lQ^^ OUK FATHERLAND. 

of the country is al^out live times as great as the wheat 
crop, very little of it is shipped to foreign ports. 
Corn is the food of various animals, while wheat is 
consumed l)y man alone. Most of the corn raised in 
the United States is used for feeding domestic animals, 
especially swine. Consequently from the section 
where it is most abundant great qutmtities of bacon 
are exported. 



THE MAIZE. 



•' That precious seed into the furrow cast 
Earliest in springtime crowns the harvest last." 

— PHOiBE CARV 

A song for the plant of my own native West, 

Where nature and freedom reside, 
By plenty still crowned, and by peace ever blest, 

To the corn ! the green corn of her pride ! 
In the climes of the east has the olive been sung. 

And the grape been the theme of their lays, 
But for thee shall a harp of the backwoods be strung. 

Thou bright, ever beautiful maize ! 



AVith springtime and culture, in martial array 
It waves its green broadswords on high. 

And fights with the gale, in a fluttering fray, 
And the sunbeams, which fall from tlie sky ; 

It strikes its green blades at the zephyrs at noon, 



OUR FATHERLAND. 107 

And at night at the swifl-tiying fays, 
Who ride through the darkness, the beams of the moon, 
Through the spears and the flags of the maize ! 

When the summer is fierce stQl its ])anners are green, 

Each warrior's hjng beard groweth red. 
His emerakl-briglit sword is sharp-pointed and keen, 

And golden his tassel-phimed head. 
As a host of armed knights set a monarch at naught. 

They defy the day-god to his gaze. 
And, revived every morn from tiie battle tliat's fought, 

Fresh stand the green ranks of the maize ! 

But brown comes the autumn, and sear grows the corn, 

And the woods like a rainbow are dressed. 
And but for the cock and the noontide horn 

Old Time would be tempted to rest. 
The humming-bee fans off a shower of gold 

From the mullein's long rod as it sways, 
And dry grow the leaves which protecting enfold 

The ears of the well-ripened maize ! 

At length Indian Summer, the lovely, doth come, 

With its blue frosty nights, and days still. 
When distantly clear sounds the waterfall's hum, 

And the sun smokes ablaze on the hill ! 
A dim veil hangs over the landscape and flood, 

And the hills are all mellowed in haze, 
While fall, creeping on like a monk 'neath his hood, 

Plucks the thick rustling wealth of the maize. 



^^^ OUR FATHERLAND. 

And tl,e heavy wains creak to the baras large and gray, 

VV^here the treasure securely we hold, 
Housed safe fro.u the temi,est, dry-sheitered away. 

Our blessing more precious than sold ' 
And long for this n.anna that springs fron, the sod 

Shall we gratefidly give hin, the p,-aise, 
The sotn-ce of all bounty, o.u- Father and God, 

Who sent us from heaven the maize ! 

-William vv. Fosdick. 



WHEAT. 

Wheat is thought to be superior U, other .rains 
not because it is n.orc nourishing but because the 
'•read unulc from it is u.ore pahrtablc. It needs a 
warmer clhnate than any other cereal of the teu>- 
porate zone except u.aize. For this reason it n.ay 
.0 cultivated farther south than oats, rye, or barley 
it flourishes in regions nruch farther north tlian the 
corn-belt, being successfully grown in the .'alley of 
the .Saskatchewan. A cool, rather .vet spring, fol- 
owed by a sunny sutunier and har.est time is most 
favorable to it. The climate of the United States 
«outh an<l west of New England is especially adapted 
to the cultivation of wheat on account of our sunny 




72 

'O 



•oo 

Si 



^ 



IS 



OUR FATHERLAND. 109 

The richest fiekls are in the valley of the Red River 
of the Xorth, and on the Pacihc coast from Puget's 
Sound to Southern California. In both these regions 
the soil is extremely fertile. Unlike corn, the Amer- 
ican wheat is of great commercial \'alue : about half as 
nmcli l)eing exported annually as is consumed for food 
at home. There have l)een in a single year more than 
five hundred million l)ushels of Avheat raised in our 
country. Two trains of freight cars stretching in an 
unln-oken line from San Francisco to New York city 
would hardly contain tlie quantity produced in one of 
the years of greatest yield. 

India is the rival of the United States in the pro- 
duction of wheat. II(u- soil and climate are as faA^or- 
able to its cultivation as are our own, and she has 
the advantage of cheap labor. That is, a farmer in 
India does not haA^e to pa}' such high wages to his men 
as our AVestern farnuM's do, nor does it cost him so 
much to feed and clothe his family. For this reason 
he can sell his wheat for less a Inishel, and so might 
crowd American wheat out of Furopean markets, were 
there not other advantages Avhich make it possible for 
the American farmer to sell cheaply too. 

In the lirst})lace our people are more intelligent and 
are l)etter educated than the working classes of the 
Old AVorld and so are able to use all kinds of agricul- 
tural im[)lements with success ; a thing that very 



110 OUR FATHERLAND. 

ignorant people csmnot do. A large farm may be 
bought in America for what must l^c paid for a few 
acres in the densely populated country of India, and 
besides being cheaper the land is rich and does not 
need fertilizing as it does in old countries, where it is 
partially exhausted. Again canals and railways are 
running across our country in all directions, so that as 
soon as a man's wheat is harvested he can send it off 
at small expense to market, otherwise it would not 
pay him to grow it. It is said that a bushel of wheat 
can be carried by rail and water many thousand miles 
to some port in Europe, at less cost than it can l)e 
carried twenty miles by horse power. In the valley 
of the Red River is the largest wheat farm of the 
world, being forty-five miles long and a mile wide ; 
the following description shows how such farms are 
managed in this country. 



"THE BONANZA FARM." 

Such a farm is one which is divided into smaller 
farms of a]:>out six thousand acres each, all under the 
charge of a superintendent who has an office, a ])ook- 
keeper, a store-house, etc. The six thousand acres of 
each farm are again subdivided into smaller farms of 
two thousand acres, each under the charo^e of a fore- 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



Hi 



man. Each two thousand- acre farm has its own set 
of buildings, machines, bhicksmiths, etc., all under 
the charge of the general superintendent. 




A BONANZA FARM. 

Think what a beautiful sight it must be — those 
great fields of ycHow wheat stretching away out over 
the unbroken level farm as far as eye can reach. • And 
what a busy sight, too, in the harvest time — the hun- 
dreds of harvesters, the great harvesting machines 
drawn by horses, all moving across the country like a 
great army rolling ak)ng the great artillery. They 
have no swords, no band, no drum-beat, no note of 



112 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



fife to cheer them on. But forward they move, the 
mowers laying flat the long lines of wheat, and then 
binding them in a twinkling into great bundles, ready 
for transporting to the great store house which shall 
hold them all. Bonanza farming is truly a Avonder- 
ful thing ; not much like the quiet old-fashioned coun- 
try farming in our New England where one man used 
to go out with his hand-scythe, his pitch-fork, and his 
single hay-rake. Surely the western people are people 
of energy, quick to think and quick to act. 



COTTON. 




COTTON PLANT. 



Cotton, with the ex- 
ception of wheat and rice, 
is the most important crop 
in the world. That this 
should be so does not seem 
so very remarkable when 
one remem1)ers that of 
the fourteen hundred million 
people of the glol)e nearly 
everyone employs more or 
less cotton for clothino-. 



More than half of the cotton used in the manufac- 



OUR FATHERLAND. 113 

ture of cloth is grown in our own country. Until 
recently ours has also been the best raised. It is a 
plant that needs a warm, dry soil, with plentiful 
showers, and summers free from frosts. Our Southern 
States have all these conditions, so the portion of our 
country lying cast of the one hundredth meridian and 
south of the thirty-seventh parallel has become the 
o-reat cotton-belt of the United States. The areas of 
greatest production in this belt are the Yazoo valley 
in w^estern Mississii)pi and the northern half of the 
State of Alaliama. The countries ranking next to our 
own in the production of this article of commerce are 
India and Egypt. The grow^th in these countries was 
greatly increased during our civil war owing to the 
scarcity in the raw material during tluit time. 

The value of this plant for the manufacture of cloth 
was discovered long l)efore the Christian Era. The 
Chinese are known to have manufactured cloth from 
cotton as early as 500 B. C, and in India there are 
old books in which cotton is mentioned, that were 
written eight hundred years before the l)irth of Christ. 

There are many kinds of cotton plants. Some are 
herbaceous, that is, die to the ground as winter ap- 
proaches, while others are trees and shrubs. A large 
part of the cotton raised in the United States is grown 
on an herb that reaches a height of from two to four 
feet. The fibres of the plant are called staples. If they 



114 OUR FATHERLAND. 

are long, the cotton is called long-staple cotton, if 
short, short-staple cotton. The staples are commonly 
from an inch to an inch and a half in length. Through- 
ont onr great cotton-belt is produced a short-staple 
cotton that is sometimes called uplands, from the fact 
that it grows on land somewhat higher than the sea^ 
coast. Our best variety is a long-staple cotton which 
grows on a shrub and which is native to America. It 
thrives only on the sea-shore and as it was first reared 
on the low islands along the Georgia and South Caro- 
lina coasts it is called the Sea-Island cotton. A small 
quantity of a more costly kind is grown on a shrub 
which if left to itself would attain a height of from 
ten to fifteen feet, l)ut it is raised from the seed 
annually, and kept low by pruning. 

It has fine, strong, l)eautiful, silky staples about two 
and a half inches in length, and is sometimes used with 
silk. It is the most valuable and the most costly cotton 
of commerce. It is now cultivated in Egypt and on 
some of the marine islands of the Old World as well as 
off our Southern coasts . 

The pods in which the cotton forms are the size of 
a large walnut ; when ripe, however, they ])urst open 
and become a1)out as large as an apple. The withered 
pods hold the fluffy cotton-wool so firmly that it can- 
not readily escape and fall to the ground, but may be 
easily picked. When the fields are white from the 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



115 



bursting of these pods, they are filled from morning 
till night with negroes busily engaged in plucking the 
woolly mass and throwing it into long baskets. 

The seeds of the cotton plant are entangled with 
the fibres and must of course be gathered with them. 




PICKING COTTON. 



They are so entangled that it takes a man an entire 
day to pick the seeds from a single pound of the wool. 
There was formerly but little cotton raised in the 
Southern States, as it was impossible to prepare a 
great deal for market on account of its takino- so long: 
to free it from the seeds. 



116 OUR FATHERLAND. 

But in 1793, Eli \Yhitncy, a Massachusetts man, 
invented a machine that will clean three hundred 
pounds of the wool much better and more quickly 
than a man can clean ])y hand a single pound. This 
machine is made in such a way that small teeth, some- 
thing like those of a saw, seize the staples and drag 
them l)etween rollers so near together that the seeds 
cannot pass through. It is called the cotton-gin, the 
last part of the word l)eing a contraction for engine. 
The invention of the cotton-gin led to the rapid growth 
of the South in influence and wealth. 80 important 
did our cotton-crop become commercially that it gave 
rise to the famous political saying, "Cotton is King." 



THE STORY OF THE COTTON INDUSTRY. 

If we could have travelled over the United States a 
hundred years ago, we should not have found a single 
cotton factory in all its length and breadth. We 
should have seen our great grandmothers doing their 
spinning and weaving, at their own firesides, by means 
of a spinning- Avheel and a rude kind of loom, and 
usino- oenerally for their cloth the flax ofrown in their 
gardens or the wool produced l)y their sheep. Cotton, 
althouiih more al)undant and for many purposes 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



117 



better than either, could not readily be formed into a 
thread strong enough and good enough for weaving. 

After a time people found they could successfully 
use cotton with their linen. Examine a piece of cot- 
ton-cloth and you will see that some of the threads 
run the whole length of it. These are the war[) of 
the cloth, those that run back and forth from selvage 




DOMESTIC SPINNING. 



to selvage are the woof. The cotton threads spun by 
our grandmothers Aver^ much coarser and more imper- 
fect than the beautiful threads of which the cotton 
cloth of to-day is made. They w^ere so imperfect that 
they could be used for the Avoof only, so when cotton 
was emplo^^ed by our grandmothers, and by their 
English cousins, it was used wdth a linen warp. 



118 OUR FATHERLAND. 

The making of this cotton-thread by the old hand 
spinning-wheel was slow and tedious. The cotton was 
first worked into long, slender I'olls by a process called 
carding ; the end of the roll was next attached to a 
stick called a spindle in such a way that, as the wheel 
was turned, the cotton was twisted a bit and then 
wound up on the s[)indle. It took days and days to 
spin enough thread to make a few yards of cloth. In 
the cloth-making districts of England, the weavers 
could not buy all the cotton-woof they needed for their 
looms, because the spinners could not spin it fast 
enough to sup[)ly the market. 

In 1764 a clever Englishman made a kind of frame 
that would hold eight spindles. With this he could of 
course spin nmch faster than when he used one spindle 
only ; l)ut a part of this contrivance had to be held in 
one hand and the wheel turned with the other just as 
])efore. This wonde^-ful machine was called a spinning- 
jenny. The last part of the Avord is a corruj^tion of 
engine . 

Men kept improving the spinning-jenny until, in- 
stead of an apparatus that could fill eight spindles at 
a time, a machine was finally invented that would 
hold eighty spindles and in place of being worked by 
hand could be kept in motion hy water or by steam 
power. This was called a mule. To-day a single 
young girl can take care of eight mules, or seven 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



119 



hundred spindles, all whirling about so rapidly as to be 
almost invisible. 

As a consequence of this invention the spinners, 
who used to sell their cotton-thread after it was spun, 
for seven dollars a j)ound, could sell it for sixty cents a 
pound and make more money than they could possibly 
earn in the old days by hand la])()r. The work was 
no longer done at home however, on account of the 




SPINNING MULE. 



costly machinery required, so factories began to 
appear in the manufacturing districts of England. 

A new difficulty arose after a time. In the old days 
before the invention of the spinning-jenny, a weaver 
might have to spend the entire morning going about 
from cottage to cottao^e in the little town where he 



120 OUR FATHERLAND. 

lived, in order to pick up cotton yarn enough to keep 
him busy Jit his loom during the afternoon, l)ut 
now, a great deal more thread could be spun in England 
than could possi])ly be woven in the old hand looms. 
This led to new experiments out of Avhich was finally 
produced a loom that could also be run by machinery. 
All these things Avere invented in Great Britain, and 
at once placed England in a position to acquire great 
wealth by making cloth for the whole world. 

You may be sure that the United States was very 
anxious to find out how these wonderful machines were 
made and how they were operated, l)ut England 
guarded the secret well. At last, however, in 1789, 
just a hundred years ago, a Mr. Slater, a young Eng- 
lishman only twenty-one years of age, came to this 
country. He had spent several years as a workman 
in the cotton mills of England for the express purpose 
of learning about the machinery in use, in order that 
he might l)ring the knowledge of it to the })eople of 
America. This was a difficult thing to do because he 
could not take through the English custom house any 
drawings or descriptions of the machines used in the 
English factories. However he had learned his lesson 
so well that he succeeded in givingdirections by means 
of which spinning mules and power looms were made 
here. A factory Avas first started in Providence, R. I., 
and later others Avere built in a little place fifteen miles 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



121 



from Providence, now called Slatersville. Manufac- 
turing soon l^ecame one of the most important indus- 
tries of our country. AYitli the exception of England, 
no country of the Old World produces as much cotton- 
cloth as the United States does to-day. 

She not only furnishes her own people with most of 
the cotton goods they use, but is successfully compet- 



PL A I N WEAVING 



1 Wl LLtO \NeA V I N C 




PRINCIPLE OF POWER-LOOM. 



ing with the English in supplying other people. Her 
cloths find a very good market even in India and in 
China, although these countries are so much farther 
from the United States than they are from England, 
and although the American manufacturers have to pay 
their workmen much hiaher waoes, 



122 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



That the United States can sell her cotton tissues 
low enough in these countries to compete with Eng- 
land is due to two things. In the first place though 
the American manufacturer has to pay more a day to 
his laborers, they can do a great deal more in a day 




POWER-LOOM FLOOR. 



than Euro))ean workmen. It is said that an American 
operative will work up a hundred })ounds of cotton as 
quickly as an Englishman will work up sixty-seven 
pounds, and that this is due to the fact that in the 
United States the working classes live in better houses, 
eat more nourishing food, and are better educated than 
they are in England, 



OUR FATHERLATSTD. 123 

Another reason why the United States is able to 
compete with England in the eastern markets is found 
in the fact that the British cloths have rather a bad 
reputation. " This reputation is due to the employ- 
ment of an excessive amount of size in their manufac- 
ture. Size is a mixture containing starchy and fatty 
matters and other ingredients, necessary to facilitate 
the working of the yarns in weaving. For many 
years it has been the i)ractice of the English in the 
making of cheap cottons to add also a certain amount 
of china clay, and the amount of this ingredient is 
sometimes so great that the fabric, though showy when 
new, will not bear washing. Xow it is true that in 
one of the largest markets for British cottons, China, 
such cheaj) goods are })ought by people who know very 
well what they are buying, and who use them for 
funeral wrappings, for the making of padded garments 
that are never washed, and other |)urposes. In India 
and in various other markets also, there is a demand 
for cheap goods such as can be supplied only by exces- 
sive sizing. Nevertheless, there is plenty of evidence 
to show that such fabrics have in many places lowered 
the credit of British manuftictures, and created a pref- 
erence for the products of American looms. It is a 
further objection to the practice in question that when 
china clay is used in excess it is necessary in order 
that the yarns may retain the clay, that the weaving- 



124 OUR FATHERLAND. 

sheds should 1)e steamed to sueh an extent as to injure 
the health of the Avorkpeople." 



TRAVELS OF A FLUFF OF COTTON. 

A bit of thread is a little thing ; you throw it 
away without a thought. But when you look closely, 
it is really beautiful — round, even, smooth, and 
strong — a very different thing from the fluff of cot- 
ton it was made of. And well it may be different, 
for it has traveled more than three thousand miles 
backward and forward in one mill. It hasljcen picked 
and beaten and coml)ed and pulled and rolled and 
twisted and singed and washed and Ijleached and — at 
last, — wound on to a spool. It has been educated to 
lie straight, to twist })roperly, to keep aniiai)le rehi- 
tions Avith its brother filaments. It has been delivered 
over bodily to the tender mercies of men and machines 
for three weeks, and then it conies out of that training 
school a perfect bit of thread. 

Troubles began with the fluft* of cotton the moment 
it entered the thread factory . It was laid on a bed — a 
machine bed, you know ; sharp teeth came down and 
picked out the seeds that had grown in it, and iron whips 
beat it unmercifully, going over it again and again till 
all the dirt h^d fallen through the open-work bed bottom. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 125 

Then the much subdued bit of cotton, beaten out quite 
flat, passed on out of the "picker" to fall into the 
savage clutch of the "larder." The business of this 
machine is to make all the tiny fillers of the cotton lie 
straight, side by side, and it does it as you do to your 
hair, by coming with long iron teeth, till all the knots 
and snarls are out of it, and it is a smooth, eyen 
gossamer web. 

But still it does not look much like thread, and i^ 
starts next between sets of rollers, something like 
those on a clothes w^ringer, only much larger. The 
first pair of rollers goes ratlier slowly and between them 
the filmy cotton web is merely pressed down. But 
the next pair of rollers it comes to turns faster, and as 
soon as the cotton gets l^etween them it is pulled 
harder. The first rollers will not let it go any faster, 
and so of course it gets drawn out thinner and nar- 
rower, till it comes to the third pair of rollers. These 
turn faster still, and naturall}' pull it out still more, 
for all the time that stu1)l)orn first pair ivill not allow 
it to go through any quicker. 

You can see that when that unlucky l)it of cotton 
comes out of this machine it is yery much longer and 
very much narrower than when it began. In fact, it 
is a beautiful narrow gauzy ri])bon, light enough to 
float away on the air. In this shape it is called a 
" sliver," and it passes on to a most "cranky " and par- 



126 OUR FATHERLAND. 

ticular machine that ahiiost seems to have ideas of its 
own. This piece of iron picks out everything that 
does not l)elong to perfect thread, even the short fibers 
of cotton. It leaves nothing hut the longest and best, 
and makes sure that not one of them lies crooked. 

Then the cotton ribbon goes back to those odd draw- 
ing rollers, and is pulled out longer and longer and 
thinner and thinner every time it goes through. Some 
more " slivers " are put in with it, and they go on 
together — " dou])led," they call it. This is done till 
the gauzy ri])l)on will hardly hold together and then 
to keep it from pulling altogether apart, it gets a little 
twist. 

Now it is called "roving." But it has not taken 
leave of those relentless dra>,\ing rollers, for you know 
we want our thread very fine. The roving is drawn 
and doul^led again and again, till at last it is fine as a 
spider's web, and then it is ready for the " mule." 

This is not an animal, but a machine that is said 
sometimes to behave like one. The roving, you must 
know, when it goes to the mule is all wound upon big- 
bobbins ; long rows of these are set up on wire pins 
at the end of a long row of spindles, and the ends 
fastened to them. Now the machine starts up, and a 
wonderful thing happens. The big frame holding the 
spindles moves quietly back, each si)indle dragging 
its thread of roving with it ; the bobbins whirl and 



OtTR FATHERLAND. 127 

give it a twist, and thus in a second a long piece of 
roving becomes twisted " yarn." Then the frame stops, 
moves back, and the yarn is w^ound up. Again the 
frame moves forward, and another length of roving is 
pulled off, twisted into yarn, and wound up. So it 
goes on till every ])it of roving has been turned into 
yarn almost as fine as a spider's web, and if the room 
were not kept very warm and very damp it would not 
hold together an instant. A pound of cotton has now^ 
become nearly two hundred miles long ! 

When the thread is finished and made into skeins, 
it still has much before it — w^ashing, bleaching, and 
drying on a queer iron 1)all that whirls it around seven 
miles a minute, and, of course, flings the water out, 
and lastly Avinding upon spools by another wonderful 
arrangement. Then finally, and perhaps most curious 
of all, is a machine that actuall}^ seems to have sense. 
It has to l)e fed, to ])e sure. One girl pushes in big 
sheets of paper on wdiich are printed the little round 
labels on each end of the spool. Another girl feeds 
spools, and that machine puts them together. It cuts 
out the round labels, fastens them tightly to the spool, 
a different one on each end, and drops them out the 
other side, perfect, one hundred in a minute. Could 
it do more if it had sense ? 

And after all this time of w^ork and trouljle, and 
care, it is sent to a store, where you can buy it for a 



128 OUR PATHERLAKD. 

few pennies. Not long ago there was no such thing as 
cotton thread. A New England woman made the first 
on her spinning-Avheel about eighty years ago, and 
now one mill in the United States makes nearly four- 
teen thousand miles of thread every day. — Olive 
Thome Miller, 



GRAZING, 



Beyond the Eocky Mountains and reaching from 
Canada to the Gulf, are great plains, too dry for agri- 
cultural purposes, 1)ut so rich in grains, that some one 
has called them the " Almighty's pasture grounds." 
They look like great dry deserts, sparingly covered 
with small tufts of grass Avith short shrivelled blades 
which are of a pale green color. 

This is the famous " buffalo grass " Avhich covers 
thousands of miles of the plains ])eyond the Rockies. 
Though it gives to the country a dried look, and an 
appearance of desolation and barrenness, yet this 
grass is the richest known. 

The buftalo grass is rarely over two or three inches 
in height, and its seed is produced on flowers almost 
covered by leaves which lie close to the ground. It 
grows in little tufts, broad and dense, and is exceed- 
ingly rich and sweet. When making its first growth 




THE HOME OF THE PRAIRIE-DOG. 



130 OUR FATHERLAND. 

in the spring, it i.s green, then it dries on the stem 
and remains the rest of the year looking for all the 
world like eured hay on the o[)en ground. 

Withont a single exeeption, horses, inides and stoek of 
that deseri})ti()n, will eat no other kinds of grass as 
long as a tuft of ])uilalo grass is to l)e found. 

Formerly millions of ])utialo roamed over these 
plains ; but now they have almost disappeared from 
their old haunts and in their places are found cattle 
and sheep. The l)utfal() was hunted for its hide. It 
is thought that in a single winter as many as a hun- 
dred thousand of them were killed on the lines of the 
Union and Kansas Pacitic Railroads. Before the 
white man penetrated this region, they were almost 
the only support of many tri1)es of Indians. The hide 
of the ])utlalo furnished them with clothing and shel- 
ter and the tlesh with food. 

These i)lains Avhicli were originally the home of the 
buH'alo are now sup})orting millions of ctittle which 
furnish not only the peo})le of our country Avith food 
but people of Europe as well. 

A "cattle ranch" as it is called, consists generally 
of one or more houses built of logs, near Avliich are 
long sta])les and corrals — yards- enclosed by strong, 
high fences l)uilt of logs set lirmly on end in the 
ground, and i)laced close together. The cattle belong- 
ing to the ranch run w ild, all the year round, on the 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



131 



neighboring plains in great herds, mingled with those 
of other ranches, and distinguished from them only by 
the brand of the owner. 

Only once a year does the owner see his cattle — 
at the annual " round-ups." In the latter part of 
May, and early in June these take place, A large 




A GRAZING FAKM. 

number of herders are employed, and all the cattle for 
many miles in all directions, are collected and run 
into a great corral. It is a strange, lively scene — the 
"cowboys," as the herders are called, on their half- 
wild Indian ponies, driving in the great 1)ands of wild 
cattle, which are constantly 1)i caking loose and run- 



132 OUR FATHERLAND. 

ning in all directions, pursued ])y the herders. Horses 
and men alike enter into the spirit of the occasion. 

Once gathered together, the cattle of each ranch- 
man are placed by themselves, and the calves l)()rn 
that si)ring, and which still run Avith their mothers, are 
marked with the brand of the owner. Such as are 
destined for immediate sale are taken out, and the 
rest are turned loose together on the ranae aiiain. 

The Great Plains of the Western States form one 
vast cattle-range. From Texas northward avc find 
them dotted over with the huts of the ranch-men, and 
covered with herds of cattle. They follow closely the 
retreating steps of the buffalo. So, in the great \ti\- 
leys of the mountain regions — indeed wherever grass 
grows and hostile Indians are not too i)lentiful — there 
we find these vast herds of cattle. 

AVhen the cattle are ready for market, they are 
driven to the nearest railroads and loaded on the cars, 
about eighteen l)eing put into one car. The railroads 
are now obliged bv law to water them, and at Ion"' in- 
tervals to take them out and rest Jind feed them. The 
trains move as nmcli as possible by night. ^Nlany of 
these cattle are slaughtered in Chicago, and the beef 
sent farther east in refrigerator' cars. Thence it is 
shipped to Euroi)e. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



133 



FISHERIES. 

The cod, the herring, and the mackerel are cold 
sea-water fishes ; and it is along the line of the Arctic 
Current that these fish are found. ]\Iuch as the far- 
mer depends upon the sun and rain for the success of 




DRAWING IN A NET. 



his crops, and for the future comfort of his household, so 
does the fisherman depend upon the Arctic Current 
for his supply of cod, herring and mackerel. 

In this Arctic Current it is supposed there is a sort 



134 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



of food, made up pr()])a])]y of minuto marine animals 
on which these fish especially seem to thrive. 

The "Great Banks," directly south of Newfound- 
land form a regular sub-marine plateau Avhich are 
known the world over as the " cod meadows." 




OYSTER-DREDGING. 

AVe have little idea of how great a business fishing is. 
It is said that in the United States alone the cod, the 
herring, and the mackerel-tisliing on "the banks," the 
oyster-tishing oil* the shores of jNIaryland, the lobster- 
tishing oft' the coast of New England, the seal-fishing 
of the islands outside Alaska, and the salmon-fishing 
of the Columbia River, employ one hundred and forty 
thousand men, seventeen thousand vessels, and repre- 
sent each vear the value of a hundred million dollars. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



135 



OLD MODES OF CONVEYANCE. 

When the ancient people of Asia used to move from 
place to place in search of new pasture for their flocks, 
and Avells of water from which to drink, their traA^el- 




linir was done very slowly ; the men usually walkinir 
alonii' ])y the side of their horses and camels. 

A journey in those days was an event of greatest 
im})()rtance. Often whole months wvvo i>iven to think- 
ing it oA^er and })reparing for it. The time of the year, 



136 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



the condition of the herds, the 1 liveliness of meeting 
robbers ; jiU these things had to be duly considered. 
And then, when at last all was in readiness, the cara- 
van would move away as slowly as if all eternity was 
made for no other purpose than to perform this one 




/.cf coa:jv 



journey in. I ^\'onder what these leisurely people 
would have thought had they in those days caught one 
glimpse of the rush and hurry of this nineteenth 
century. AVhat would they have said, I wonder, had 
they been told that some time in a city called Boston 
a business man, sitting quietly in his office, would re- 



OUR FATHERLAND. 137 

ceive a telesfram from his business pai-tner in Califor- 
nia inviting him to " take a run over ; " that he woukl 
instantly accept the invitation, put on his hat and coat, 
take his ''run over " to California, arrange the busi- 
ness affair and be baclv in his office again almost before 
his creditors had discovered he was out of toAvn. 

The length of time on the roads of pack horses and 
stage-wagons was then measured by weeks, and was 
tedious in the extreme. 

It seems strange almost that in all the centuries 
past no one should have discovered the use to which 
the power of steam coukl be put : that for all those 
hundreds and hundreds of years with all their improve- 
ments in architecture, Avith all the refinement in art, 
and with all the dcA-elopment of thought and learning 
in every other line, that this one subject of travel 
should never have been improved upon until this pres- 
ent time. 

At the very beginning of this century the first 
steam-boat was made. How Robert Fulton, its inven- 
tor, was laughed at and sneered at for saying that he 
lielieved he could make a boat go l)y steam-power I 
And how the people opened their eye^ and mouths and 
stared in dumb amazement when his first little steam- 
boat did propel itself up the Hudson River. And 
how quickly a complete revolution in the way of water 
travellimr was l)roua'ht about bv this discoverv. 



138 OUR FATHERLAND. 



THE FIRST RAILROAD. 

It was not until 1830 that the railroad schonio 
was brouaht before the i)e()i)le. The inventor of 
the tirst locomotive was George Ste})henson, a luinihle 
eoal-digi>er in Northunil)ria, England. But Colum- 
l)us, you renienil)er, was but the son of a simple 
wool-comber; audit's quite lime that we all began to 
understand that one's parentage or one's position in 
life has very little on the whole to do with Avhat one 
may ])ecome if he will study and think and be honest- 
hearted. 

Stephenson's experience in getting the aid of the 
Enii'lish Parliament Avas not unlike that of Colum1)us 
in getting the aid of the Portuguese and Spanish kings. 
When he a})})eared before the great Parliament, and 
l)resented his plans, they looked upon him with no 
little scorn, they yawned as he laid out his pictures of 
machinery before them, and tinally told him that in 
their opinion the old ways of travelling were good 
enough for most people and that he might withdraw 
his request for aid and so l)e si)ared the chagrin of be- 
ing refused. Then they lolled back in their great easy 
chairs, drank their ])eer, smoked their pipes, and 
thanked heaven that they should not again be bothered 
with that foolish young man with his ridiculous plans 



OUR FATHERLAND. 139 

for whisking people from place to place at a speed al- 
together undignified as well as ])ei"il()us in the ex- 
treme . 

But the foolish young man, like Columbus, had per- 
severance equal in strength to his faith. The mer- 
chants of Liverpool saw at once what an immense ad- 
vantage such a road Avould l)e to their trade, and so 
although the Parliament had so entirely refused him 
aid or evefl encouragement thc}^ sul)scril)ed money for 
building a trial road between Liverpool and jNIanches- 
ter. 

It was in 1826 that work on this first railroad was 
commenced. You can imagine Avhat a difficult piece 
of work this must have ])een ; for Stephenson had 
none of this modern machinery for survey ing and lev- 
elling, for tunnelling and blasting rocks, or for con- 
structing bridges or sinking piles in the marshy ground. 
No wonder that it took four whole years to 1)uild this 
road, short though it was, when we rememl)er that all 
this had to be done by slow, clumsy hand work. 

Four years later, the road was finished. A trial 
trip was made to test the work, and then the Duke of 
Wellington and many other of the nobility were invi- 
ted to take part in the ceremony of making a sort of 
public dedication of the road. 

Such an excitement as there was in these two 
cities on this wonderful day. Everyone in Liverpool 



140 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



crowded around the station to see the engine start up- 
on its trip to Manchester ; cA^ery one in Manchester 
was at the station to see the train come in ! All along 
the road were crowds and crowds of people eager to 
see the wonderful sight. Among the laboring classes, 
so great was their jealousy and fear that these new in- 




'THE ROCKET. 



"PUFFING BILLY." 

ventions were going to take away their chances for 
labor, that an immense force of armed men were or- 
dered out to watch the crowds and prevent any attempt 
of the mob to destro}' the engine or to do any harm to 
the brave inventor. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 141 

Early in the morning the city of Liverpool began to 
fill with people from all pails of England, many com- 
ing even from Ireland, Scotland, and AVales. The streets 
were lined with carriages, stores and houses were dec- 
orated with all manner of Hying decorations and the 
city throughout was dressed for a gala day. 

Eight locomotives and thirty-three passenger car- 
riages had l)een provided l)y the railroad company for 
their invited guests. AVith the l)ands playing, the people 
shouting and cheering, silk flags flying, the train moved 
away — slowly, we should say to-day, hut to the gaily 
dressed people Avithin the carriages, it was as if they 
were borne on the Avings of the wind. 

''It is as if we were flying,"' said one. 

''It takes our very breath away," said another. 

As the train reached Manchester, the excitement 
grew more and more intense. For miles the road was 
lined with people crowded upon the housetops, ui)on 
fences, upon Imdges. The la1)orers hissed and hooted 
as the train went by and were kept from stoning the 
innocent people Avithin by the vigilance of the guards. 

In this Avay the inauguration of the first railroad 
Avas brought about. America Avas not long in making 
an attempt at railroading, you may be sure. And in 
1831 a railroad was opened at Charleston, South 
Carolina. The locomotive w^as named "The Best 
Friend ; " and if you could but haA^e seen it, a'ou avouM 



142 OUR FATHERLAND. 

certainly say that it was quite as odd and curious 
looking an affair as was its name. 

A public dedication of the road was made after the 
fashion of the one we have just read about in England. 
Great was the rejoicing throughout the country that a 
railroad had ])een Iniilt, and everywhere great scheme;* 
for future railroads were talked about and written 
about. 

Not lono- after the dedication of this road, when 
everybody was so full of projects for the future, an ac- 
cident happened which for a time clouded this spirit 
of delight. 

And such an absurd accident as it was ! The negro 
fireman, being very nervous, I su])pose, could not en- 
dure the sound of the hissing from the safety-valve. 

"I'll put a stop to that noise yet," said he, scowling 
and scratcdiing his woolly head. And so he })ressed 
down the little valve, put some l)its of wood over it, 
and then to make it doubly sure, he sat down ui)on it 
himself. 

You can imagine Avhat was the result to the negro, 
to the engine, and to the passengers in the forward 
cars. This accident was such a shock to the people, 
that for a little time, there seemed danger that railroad 
travelling would never again be looked upon with fa- 
vor. But the cause of the accident was clearly ex- 
plained, a " barrier-car " put between the <^0gine and 



OUR FATHERLAND. U3 

the passengers, a solemn promise given to the peo[)le 
that the safety valve should never again l)e touched by 
any one but the engineer, and so the fright gradually 
gave way and the people travelled again by rail. 

A trial trip as to speed was arranged for between 
the Ohio and the Baltimore in 1830. The locomotive 
and a horse were to start together ; and when you 
know that the horse far outstripped the locomotive in 
the race, you will understand that the locomotive must 
have been a Aery crude affair at tirst. 

Still the idea of travelling l>y steam had taken hold 
ui)()n the pul)lic mind, and was sure to groAv. Every 
locomotive l)uilt Avas a little l)etter than the one be- 
fore, the speed was greater, and the action smoother. 
In 1831 a trial tri}) was made betAveen Albany and 
Schenectady in one hour, proving to the people that 
now there Avas no limit to the si)eed that might some- 
time ])e ac(]uired. 

This trip to Schenectady Avas such a comical, un- 
comfortal)le affair, that I must stop to tell you of it. 
It Avas a great occasion, much like the day at Liver- 
pool in fact. The engineer Avas dressed in a tine dress 
coat, and the cars — Avhich l)y the Avay Avere stage- 
coaches tied upon trucks — were filled Avitli the great 
people of the times. The conductor collected the 
tickets from outside the coachs, and then mounting 
upon a seat on the tender, IjleAV a little tin horn by 



144 OUR FATHERLAND. 

which to tell the engineer that the train was ready to 
move. 

And such a move as it was ! Jerk, jerk, jerk, jerk ! 
For the coaches were shackled together but loosely, 
and for several minutes the passengers were jerked 
along, off their seats, into each others lai)s in a most 
surprising manner. But the people were all friends, 
and were out for })leasure, and so took it all good- 
naturedly, even if the gentlemen's hats were sent Hying 
across the coach, and tile ladies' bonnets now and 
then i)itched forward over their faces. 

But hardly had the train settled itself into a fairly 
quiet movement when a new trouble arose. This time 
a serious one, and one which even the good-natured 
passengers could not exactly say was enjoyable. The 
fuel used in the engine was pitch-i)ine. This made an 
intense heat, Ave do not doubt, but the great rolls of 
black smoke that i)oured out over the train, dropping 
its sparks and bits of burning wood were sometimes 
terrible. The passengers on the tops of the coaches 
raised their umbrellas ; but this made matters worse. 
The uml)rellas caught tire and were thrown overboard ; 
and for the remainder of the journey the passengers 
both outside the coaches and within, busied themselves 
in jumping about and whipping each other with hand- 
kerchiefs, hats, and canes to put out the bits of fire. 

In spite of all this the passengers declared they 



OUR FATHERLAND. U6 

never had such a deliiihtfiil ride, and the trip on the 
Avhok' was looked upon as a <»reat success. 

Many wealthy, old-fashioned people shook their 
heads disapprovingly at the new invention, and kept 
to their old way of travelling slowly along in their 
elegant private coaches. All this might he well enough 
for people who had money and leisure ; but the mer- 
chants quickly saw that there was no longer any need 
to journey along for two whole days over the road 
between Xew York and Philadelphia. Railroads from 
city to city l)egan everywhere to spring up ; and in 
1841 they were quite common-place affairs. 

When the road l)et\veen Al])any and Boston was 
finished, the stock-holders sat down to a great banquet 
at which they ate 1)read made from Hour which only 
two days l^efore had been threshed in Rochester. All 
ate the bread with great solemnity, feeling that the 
end of wonders was indeed at hand. 

As the Western States began to grow in importance, 
people saw that a railroad must be laid from the 
Atlantic to the Pacific . At first it seemed almost an 
impossibility. Such ravines, such mountainous gor- 
ges, such deep rocky canons as there were to be 
tunnelled and crossed and levelled I But in this 
nineteenth century we are ])eginning to learn that 
nothing is imp()ssi])le. In 18(39 the Pacific Railroad 
was finished and New York and San Francisco were 
brought within a week's distance of eacli other. 



146 OUR FATHERLAND. 

Away 11}) ill the cold icy lioDie of the E.s(]uiiiiaiix 
the reindeer and the dog still drag their master's sled 
across the iiekls of snow ; in the African desert the 
Bedouin urges the slow, })atient camel ; but in every 
other country, even through the steppes of llussia and 
old "India's coral strands," as the hymn says, stretch 
out the long miles of railroads en er v>'liich to-day we 
fly, and forget that it was not always so, at a speed 
which only lifty years ago our fathers would hardly 
have believed possil)le. 



AMERICAN RAILROADS. 



Our country could not have increased in wealth and 
in poi)ulation as it has done in the last fifty years, had 
it not been for railroads. Someone has said of us, 
that we, like the Romans, are a nation of road- 
builders. 

In 1830 there were only twenty-three miles of rail- 
way in the whole of the United States, to-day there are 
more than a hundred and fifty thousand miles, and new 
lines are rapidly 1)uilding. We have about as many 
miles as are found in all other countries taken together. 
A peculiarity of American railway building is that it 
keeps ahead of the population. The great railway 
builders push their roads into sections wdiere there are 
no cultivated fields and almost no inhabitants, and 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



147 



soon these sections are tilled with pvockictive farms 
and thriving towns. 

The first Pacific Kailw ay was completed only twenty 
years ago, and now there are four great lines in the 
United States connecting the two oceans. A perfect 
network of roads covers the eastern half of our country, 
and new lines are constantly being built east and 
west. 

The maps show how we excel other nations in this 
respect. The first is of the States in the vicinity of the 
Great Lakes and the Mississippf River, and the second 
is a railway map, on the same scale, of a portion of 
Russia in which the products and industries are sim- 
ilar to those of the northern part of the Mississip}n 
basin. 

See maps on pages 148 and 149. 




STEEL BRIDGE ACROSS THE MISSISSIPPI. 



148 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



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Map of a portion of the United States aroand Chicago^ 
showiny neticork of llailroadn. 

DrtiAvn on the same scale as the map of Russia on opposite page. 
This area is relatively less populous than the most productive parts 
of Russia. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



149 




Map of a portion of Russia^ f^hoiring Railroads. 



This map is drawn on the same scale as tlie United States map, 
on opposite pag:e, and the products of the country are similar. 



150 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



THE BUILDING OF THE FIRST RAILROAD ACROSS 
THE CONTINENT. 




It is almost impossi- 
)ie to realize how 
o'igaiitic was the task of 
unitino-the Atlantic and 
Pacific. All supplies for 
the road had to be taken 
from New York to San 
Francisco hy water and 
then inland to Sacra- 



mento. Every bar of iron juid every tool had to be 



OUR FATHERLAND. 151 

))ouo-ht and started on a sea Yoyage round Cape Horn 
some five or six months before it was needed. 

On the western slope, for the first hundred miles the 
road runs up and u}) jinionu' the mountains, some- 
times crossing ravines, running along precipices, or 




SNOWSIIEDS OX TILE PACIFIC IJNE. 

tunnelling its way through solid walls of granite until 
it attains a height of seven thousand feet above the 
sea-level. 

About a mile above the sea the snow line was 
reached, and, to protect the road, forty miles of snow 
galleries had to ])e l)uilt, in some plactv^ strong enough 
for avalanches to pass over them. 



152 OUR FATHERLAND. 

After crossins: the Sierras the road descended into 
a A^ast ])l}iin, dry, sei'e and deserted, where there was 
uoi a sliiii of ('i\ili/(>d life, wheix^ there was neither 
fuel nor water. For more than six Inmdred miles of 
the route, there \vas not a sinii'le white inhabitant ; and 
sometimes for a hundred miles at a stretch there was 
no water to he found for either man or maehinery. 

The surveyors were in constant (hmiier of being 
killed by the Indians, some of them did lose their lives 
in that way. Those who did tlie _a'i"adini»- had to be 
])roteet('d by :; 1)and of soldiers^ and at ;dl times the 
track-layers and train hands had to go armed. It was 
almost im})ossibh» to get men to work upon the rail- 
way, until the Chinese came, and to them is (hie in a 
large measure the successful com[)leti()n of the under- 
taking. 

AVork was carried on at the same time from ])()th 
the eastern and the western end of the road. The 
eastern end of the line is the Fnion Pacific, the west- 
ern end is the Central Pacitic Railway. The two roads 
met about eight hundred miles from San Francisco at 
a little })lace called Promontory Point and here was 
celebrated the "Great Railroad Wedding" as it is 
sometimes called. Tn the presence of more than a 
thousand j)eople.the last spike was driven in place on 
May 10, 18(U), six years after the work was begun. 

About eleven o'clock on this last dav,the Governor's 



OUR FATHERLAND. 153 

train arrived from California. The enoine was a ally 
decorated with little flags and ril)l)ons — the red, white 
and blue. The last tie was put in place. It was 
made of ( alilbrnia laurel, flnely polished, and orna- 
mented with a silver escutcheon, hearino-the followinir 
inscription : " The last tie laid on the Pacific Railroad, 

May 10, 1809." Four spikes were then furnished, 

two gold and two silver— by :\rontana, Idaho, C alifor- 
nia and Xevada. 

AVord had been sent all over the country that tlie 
driving of the last spike would be connnunicated to all 
telegraphic oflices the instant the work was done : 
and people were anxiously waiting the news. 

At last came flashing over the Avires from Promon- 
tory Point : 

"Ahnost i-eady, hats ofl', prayer is being offered.'' A 
silence for the prayer ensued, then ran along the wires 
again : 

" AA^e have done praying, the spike is al)out to l)e 
presented."' 

Chicago replied : " We understand, all are ready 
in the East." 

Another pause of a few seconds and the lightning 

came flashing eastward, 2,400 miles to AVashington. 

"Done ! The last rail is laid I The last spike is driven ! 

The Pacific Railroad is completed !" 

"A curious incident, connected with the laving of the 



154 



OUR FATHERLA.ND. 



last rails, is Avorthy of note. The laying of two lengths 
of rails had been reserved for this last day's work. 
The Union Pacific people l)i'ought up their pair of 
rails and the work of placing them was done hy Euro- 
peans. The Central Pacific people then laid their pair 
of rails, the lal)()r ))eing performed hy Mongolians. 
The foremen, in both cases, were Americans. Here, 
near the centre of the great American Continent, were 
representatives of Europe, Asia, and America — Amer- 
ica directing and controlling." 




CARKYING U. S. MAIL ACROSS THE SIERRA NEVADA. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



lf)5 




TRESTLE-BBIDGE ON THE PACIEIC RAILWAY. 

ADVANTAGES OF RAILROADS. 

Great as is the convenience of railroads, we must not 
think that that is the onl}^ advantaiie derived l)y us from 
them ; for even if we do not travel at all, we are bene- 
fited l)y them in many other ways. 

First, "consumers " are benefited l)y them. Here 
is an illustration. Not many years a^o a severe famine 
prevailed in a certain section of India. Thousands 



lofi OUR FATHERLAm). 

of people perished from starvation. And yet there 
were otlier regions of India where there was al)un- 
danee of food, l^ut as this had to be transported 
chiefly in ox carts, only a little conld be carried at 
once, and it took a long time to reach the famine- 
stricken region. 

If there had been railways connecting the district 
where the famine was with those i)laces where food 
abonnded, the starving })e()ple could very soon have 
])een relieved ; and therefore the British Government 
is urgently encouraging the construction of such rail- 
Avays. 

Again, "producers" are benefited by railroads in 
f his way : 

" Productions ])ecome more valuable Avhen there is 
convenient railway transi)ortation. The grain grow- 
ers of the Northwest, the coal miners and manufactur- 
ers of the Middle Atlantic and Eastern States, and the 
mining population of the Eocky ^Mountain Region, 
one and all de})end more or less for their i)r()s})erity 
upon the facilities for transportation afforded them 
l)y railroads. 

We can readily understand how railroads benefit 
all these producers, if we consider especially the case 
of the farmer. It is of very little use that a region is 
fertile, uidess its ])roducts can 1)e readily sent to 
market. 



OUR FATHERLAND. 157 

In those days when niih-oads out through the west 
were few, it often hMp[)ened that fanners only a few 
hundred miles from Chicago l)urned scjnie of 
their corn for fuel ])ecause of the difficulties of trans- 
portation and the expense of getting crops to market. 
Fire-wood ])eing scarce, the expense of getting it 
from any neighboring wood-market made it really 
cheaper on the whole to burn the corn than to buy the 
wood. 

We may almost say that it is to railroads alone that 
the prosperity of the Mississippi is due. The early 
settlers of Kentucky, without railroads, Avere almost 
wholly shut off from the Atlantic ports because of the 
roughness and tiresomeness of the mountain passes of 
the Alleghanies. The only way of transporting the 
rich products of the Kentucky soil Avas by rafting 
them down the Mississippi to Xew Orleans ; and there 
selling crop, raft and all, for any price they might be 
able to get, the farmers then Avould make their way 
home again on foot or on horseback as best they could. 

Have you ever noticed the great lines of freight 
cars that roll hour after hour along our lines of rail- 
roads ? So many of them, and labelled AV'ith the names 
of cities from all parts of the United States ! One 
stands in wonder to see them pass. We wonder where 
they can l)e going, Avhat there is in them, and how in 
the world their owners can keei) count of them. 



158 



OUR FATHERLAND. 



Those long freight trains rolling along from the 
North Central States carry eattle, wheat, corn, and 
other farm products. 

Those from Missouri and Kentucky are laden, ^ani 
would find, with heni}) and tobacco. 

Those from Ohio and the States close about Ohio, 
carry great (juantities of i)ork, lard, and Hour. 

Some cars are loaded with coal. Some have in 
them great refrigerators in which are packed meat 
from the far west, and salmon from the Columbia River. 
Other cars have in them great tanks in which is petro-, 
leum. 

Those freight trains from the south would, you will 
know at once, ])e loaded with cotton, tobacco, and in 
the fruit season, Avith oranges, strawberries, and the 
rich melons that grow so plentifully in the sunny 
south. 




OUR FATHERLAND. 159 



OUR COUNTRY'S FUTURE. 

Fjinn-liou.scs dot the landscape, rcsos cliinl) by cot- 
tage doors, bees till the aii'Avith their huniinino-, bring- 
iiig home to their hives the sweets gathered from far-off 
prairie flowers ; the prattle of children's voices floats 
iil)on the air, the verdant waste becomes an Eden, 
villages, towns, and cities spring into existence. A 
great metropolis rises upon the Pacific shore, where 
the winter air is laden Avith the perfume of ever-ljlcjom- 
ing flowers. 

The ships of all nations lie at anchor in the land- 
locked bays, or shake out their sails for a voyage to 
the Orient. Steamships come and go, laden with the 
teas of China and Japan, the coffee of Java, the spices 
of Sumatra. I hear the humming of saws, the pound- 
ing of hammers, the flying of shuttles, the click 
and clatter of machinery. By every mill-stream 
springs up a town. The slopes are golden with ripen- 
ing grain. The forest, the field, the mine, the river, 
alike yield their abundance to the ever-growing mul- 
titude. 

" Here the free spirit of mankind at length 

Throws its last fetters off, and who shall place 
A limit to the giant's unchained strength. 
Or curb his swiftness in the forward race ? 



160 OUR FATHERLAND 

For, like the comet's way tlirougli infinite space, 
Stretches the long untra veiled path of light 

Into the depth of ages ; we may trace, 
Distant, the brightening glory of its flight, 
Till the receding rays are lost to human sight." 

I do not look with desponding eyes into the future. 
The nations everywhere, — ^^in Europe and Asia, — the 
new and the old, are moving onward and upward as 
never before, and America leads them. Through the 
driftino- haze of the future I behold nations risino* from 
the darkness of ancient barbarism into the light of 
modern civilization and the radiant cross once reared 
on Calvary throwing its peaceful beams afar — over 
ocean, valley, lake, river, and mountain, illumining all 
the earth. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





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